“Before God,” he said, “I will hang the printers, and slay the witnesses with my fist. I know how these things be made.” He shook his fist. “I love thee so that were they true, and wert thou the woman of Sodom, I would have thee to my Queen!”
She cried out “Ah!”
“Child,” he calmed himself, “I will keep my hands from thee. But I would fain have the kisses of thy mouth.”
She went to lean upon her table, for her knees trembled.
“Let me speak,” she said.
“Why, none hinders,” he answered her kindly.
“I swear I do love thee, so that thy voice is as the blows of hammers upon iron to me,” she said. “I may have little rest, save when I speak with thee, for that sustaineth thy servant. But I fear these days and ways. This is a very crooked riddle. So much I desire thee that I am tremulous to take thee. If it be a madness call it a madness, but grant me this!”
She looked at him distractedly, brushing her hands across her eyes.
“It feels within my heart that I must do a penance,” she said. “I have been wishful to feel upon my brow the pressure of the great crown. Therefore, grant me this: that I may not feel it. And be this the penance!”
“Child,” he said, “how may you be a Queen, and not crowned with pomp and state?”
“Majesty,” she faltered, “to prepare myself against that high office I have been reading in chronicles of the lives of them that have been Queens of England. It was his Grace of Canterbury that sent me these books for another purpose. But there ye shall read—in Asser and the Saxon Chronicles—how that the old Queens of Saxondom, when that they were humble or were wives coming after the first, sat not upon the throne to be crowned and sacred, but—so it was with Judith that was stepmother to King Alfred, and with some others whose names in this hurry I may not discover nor remember in my mind—they were, upon some holidays, shewn to the people as being the King’s wife.”
She hung her head.
“For that I am humble in truth before the world and before my mother Mary in Heaven, and for that I am not thy first Queen, but even thy fifth; so I would be shewn and never crowned.”
She leaned back against the table, supporting herself with her hands against its edges; her eyes piteously devoured his face.
“Why, child,” he said, “so thou wilt be that fifth Queen; whether thou wilt be a Queen crowned or a Queen shewn, what care I?”
She no longer refused herself to his arms, for she had no more strength.
“Mary be judge between me and them that speak against me,” she said, “I can no more hold out against my joy or longings.”
“Sha’t wear a hair shirt,” he said tenderly. “Sha’t go in sackcloth. Sha’t have enow to do praying for me and thee. But hast no need of prayers.” He lulled her in his arms, swaying on his feet. “Hast a great tongue. Speakest many words. But art a very child. God send thee all the joy I purpose thee. And, an thou hast sins, weight me further down in hell therewith.”
The light of the candles threw their locked shadows along the wall and up the ceilings. Her head fell back, her eyes closed, so that she seemed to be dead and her listless hands were open in her skirts.
Colophon
Privy Seal
was published in by
Ford Madox Ford.
This ebook was produced for
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Stephen Fenwick,
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Internet Archive.
The cover page is adapted from
Portrait of a Man with His Hand on His Chest,
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Corneille de Lyon.
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League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
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