He settled in at The Barge and changed the way of life there.

Sometimes he looked at Jane with a mildly sarcastic smile, and there would be a faint twinkle in his half-closed blue eyes as though he were wondering how such a man as his friend Thomas More could have married the insignificant little wench.

She learned a good deal about him, but the things which interested her were, Thomas said, unimportant. He was the illegitimate son of a priest, and this seemed to Jane a shameful thing; nor could she understand why he was not ashamed of it. He had become an orphan when he was very young, and when those about him had realized his unusual powers he had been sent into a convent of canons regular, but, like Thomas, he could not bring himself to take the vows. He had studied in Paris, where he had given his life to literature; and although he had suffered greatly from abject poverty and had been forced to earn his bread by becoming tutor to gentlemen, so dazzling was his scholarship that he had drawn the attention of other scholars to himself and was recognized as the greatest of them all.

Jane, in her kitchen, giving orders to her maids, could hardly believe that she had this great man in her house and that it was her husband with whom he went walking through the streets of London.

To some extent she was glad of this man's visit; it turned Thomas's attention from herself. They were translating something—to which they referred as Lucian—from Latin into Greek, she believed; they would spend hours together doing this work, disagreeing on many points. It seemed to Jane that learned conversation involved a good deal of disagreement. And so it happened that as Thomas must engage himself in continual conversation with Erasmus, with his work as a lawyer and with his attendances at the Parliament, he had less time to give to the tutoring of his wife.

But she, since the smile she was sure she had received from the Prince of Wales, began to feel that perhaps she was not so foolish as she had believed herself to be. On looking back, it seemed that that smile of the Princes had held a certain appreciation. She was not so foolish that she did not realize that the Prince would look for other qualities in a woman than did Thomas; yet the approbation of such a Prince gave her new courage and confidence in herself.

She listened more carefully to the discourses that went on about her; and when they were in English she found that they were not so dreary as she had believed they must be.

Erasmus disliked the monks; Thomas defended them.

Erasmus declared his intention of one day laying bare to the world the iniquitous happenings which occurred in some of the monasteries of Europe.

He had stories to tell of the evil practices which went on in monasteries. Listening, Jane realized that there was much sin in the world.

In some religious houses, declared Erasmus, lewdness rather than religion was the order of the day. Abortion and child murder prevailed; for how, demanded Erasmus, can these holy nuns account for the children they bring into the world? They cannot. So they strangle them as soon as they are born and bury them in the grounds of the nunneries. There are lusts of an unnatural nature between the sexes….

Here the men became aware of Jane's attention, and they lapsed into Latin.

Jane thought: The Prince thought me worth a glance. Perhaps I could learn a little Latin. Though I should never be a scholar I might learn a little, for if I can understand English, why not Latin?

Erasmus spoke in English of one monastery in which there was a statue of a boy saint, hollow and so light that it could be lifted by a child of five. Yet it was said that only those without sin could lift it. Many came to see the holy statue, and rich men found that they could only lift it when they had paid heavily for the monk's intercession with the saints on their behalf Only when they had given to the monastery as much money as they could be induced to part with were they able to lift the statue. A miracle? In a way. Worked by one of the monks who, remaining out of sight, removed at the right moment that peg which held the statue on the floor. Then there was the case of the phial of blood, reputed to be that of Christ. Only those who were holy enough could see the blood; and it was deemed a sign from Heaven that a man would only be received there if the blood appeared to him. And the blood? The blood of a duck, renewed at regular intervals. And the phial? It was opaque one side. It cost much money to have the phial turned so that the blood was visible to the devout dupe.

“These practices are wicked,” said Erasmus. “They bring much gain to the monasteries now, but they will eventually bring much loss. I am sure of it.”

“Is it fair,” asked Thomas, “to condemn all monasteries because of the evildoing of some?”

“It is well,” said Erasmus, “to put all under suspicion and let them clear themselves.”

“But should one be assumed guilty until he fails to prove his innocence?”

“You are too lenient, friend More. The greed of these monks will prove their undoing. One day I shall show their criminal follies to the world; I shall set it out that all may read. Then, my friend, they will wish that they had led the lives of holy men, which are more comfortable than the lives of the wandering beggars they will become. What say you, Mistress More? What say you?”

The mildly mocking eyes were turned upon her. Thomas came to her rescue. “Jane will doubtless agree with you.”

“Then I am glad of that,” said Erasmus. “And I hope one day to convince you also. For it is the duty of us men of letters to show the worlds wrongs to the world.”

“But we must be sure we have something good to offer in its place, before we destroy that which mayhap could be set to rights.”

“Ah, you and your ideal state! That is still on your mind, is it? You set too high a standard. You think the world is made up of potential saints and martyrs. Does your husband talk to you, Mistress More, day in, day out, of this wonder world of his?”

“He talks … a little,” stammered Jane. “But I am not clever. I am far from learned and there is much I do not know.”

Thomas smiled at her, his eyes telling her not to be nervous. He rose and put an arm about her shoulders.

“Jane is learning,” he said. “One day she will understand Latin even as you or I.”

“I fear not,” said Jane. “I am far too foolish.”

“Why,” said Erasmus, “so he would bother you with lessons, would he? You see, it is what I expect of him. The world is not to his liking, so he would build an ideal world. A woman is … a woman, and he would make a scholar of her!”

“There is no reason, my dear Erasmus, why women, if taught, should not became every bit as learned as men.”

“There is every reason.”

“And what are these?”

“Women are the weaker sex. Do you not know that? They are not meant to cudgel their brains. They are meant to look to the comfort of men.”

“Nay. I do not agree. I believe that we are mistaken in not giving our girls an education equal to that which we give our boys. If we did, we should find our women able to converse with us in Latin while they cooked the dinner.”

“And Mistress More … she is proving as apt a pupil as you once were … as I was?”

Thomas answered in Latin, because he was aware of Jane's embarrassment. He was always acutely aware of the feelings of others, and suffered their hurt more deeply than he would his own.

And the two men, having found a subject for discussion, would go on happily until the one led to another.

It will not always be thus, thought Jane. One day Erasmus will go away; one day we shall visit New Hall; and one day, who knows, I may learn to converse in Latin!

But that day must be a long way ahead, and meanwhile she must go on trying not to hate her life at The Barge.


* * *

HAD HE been wrong to marry?

Thomas was unsure. Sometimes he walked alone through the streets of London and his steps invariably took him northward across the City; he would find himself walking up Charter Lane until he came to the great buildings in which he had spent those four years of indecision.

He would enter the quadrangle, then go to the chapel or the chapter house; and he would think, not without longing, of the life of solitude and meditation, life that was given up to study and contemplation, life that was unharassed by bodily needs, by the great events which were going on in the outside world.

He thought of the rigorous way of life of the Carthusians, each with his separate house of two rooms, closet, refectory and garden, living his solitary life, speaking to his fellow monks only on feast days, fasting at least once a week, never eating flesh of any sort and thus subduing the appetites of the body; he thought of wearing the hair shirt by night so that sleep did not come easily, until eventually it was possible to indulge in sleep for only an hour each night; using the wooden pillow, dressing in the coarsest clothes to detract from any good looks a man might possess and so subdue his vanity; he thought of shutting himself away from the world, and perhaps by his example helping to lead others to a holier way of life.

The life of retirement seemed very dear to him when he thought of his home in The Barge of Bucklersbury.

Was Erasmus right? Was it as difficult to create an ideal woman as an ideal world? Was he a fool to try to educate Jane to his intellectual standard? Was he making an unhappy woman of her as well as a fool of himself?

This was the state of the marriage of Jane and Thomas More when Jane found that she was going to have a child.