But now Fisher was on the Queen’s side. He was the Queen’s counsel. He did not approve of a divorce. He believed that, having married Katharine and been disappointed in her, his King should yet remain her faithful husband.

What did Fisher know of the needs of a healthy man who was in the prime of life?

As he glowered at his one-time tutor, Henry hated the tall, spare figure. The fellow looks as though he spends his time shut in a cell, fasting, he thought derisively. No matter what love I had for him it shall be forgotten if he dares oppose me in this matter. He will have to learn that those who cross me do so at the peril of their lives.

And now what was this matter of a forgery?

Warham was saying: “This is your seal.”

Fisher retorted: “My Lord, you know full well this is not my seal. You know that you approached me in this matter and I said that I would never give my name to such a document.”

Warham could see the King’s anger mounting. Warham was all for peace. He did not think that Fisher realized the full force of the King’s passion in this matter. Perhaps Fisher was too honest to understand that when the King was being driven by his lust he was like a wild animal in his need to assuage it. Warham tried to end the matter as lightly as possible.

“You were loath to put your seal to this document, it is true,” he murmured. “But you will remember that in the end we decided that I should do it for you.”

“My lord,” said Fisher, “this is not true.”

The King shifted angrily in his seat. Warham sighed and put down the document; it was a gesture which meant that no good could come of pursuing that matter further.

“We will proceed with the hearing,” Wolsey announced. Henry sat sullenly wondering what effect Fisher had already had on the court. By God, he thought, that man’s no friend of mine if deliberately he flouts me in order to serve the Queen.

But all would be well. Katharine had been right when she had said that few in this court would dare disobey him. They would not; and thus they would give him the verdict he was demanding. What difference would one dissenting voice make?

But he hated the dissenters. He could never endure criticism. And when it came from someone whom he had once admired, it was doubly wounding.

He scarcely heard what was being said about him until it was Fisher’s turn to make his speech for the Queen.

“Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder…”

As soon as Fisher had finished speaking, Henry rose from his seat.

He had had enough for one day. The session was over.


* * *

THE DAYS PASSED with maddening slowness for the King. It was a month since the trial had begun and still no conclusion had been reached. Each day the counsels for the King and those for the Queen argued their cases; and it was clear that Fisher alone was determined to do his utmost to win a victory for the Queen.

Campeggio was in despair, for although he applied his delaying tactics whenever possible he could see that he could not extend the proceedings much longer, and, in view of the evidence he had heard, he knew that if he made a decision it would have to be in favor of the King.

This he could not do, as his strict orders from the Pope were that he should give no definite verdict.

Understanding the motives behind his fellow Legate’s methods Wolsey was depressed; he knew that Campeggio’s one desire was to prolong the action of the court until he could suitably disband it.

This was the state of affairs when the Cardinal was summoned to the King’s presence.

Henry was purple with anger, and striding up and down the apartment waving papers in his hands. He did not speak as Wolsey approached, but merely thrust the papers at the Cardinal.

Wolsey read the news and felt sick with horror. François had suffered defeat in Italy and a peace was to be made between him and the Emperor. Margaret, Regent of the Netherlands, who was the Emperor’s aunt, and Louise of Savoy, the mother of François, had arranged this peace which was consequently called The Ladies’ Peace. It was natural that Clement should at the same time sign a treaty with the Emperor.

“And,” cried Henry, glowering at his Chancellor, “these matters are settled and we are told nothing of them until they are completed. It seems to me that our French ally is as treacherous as our Spanish ones. Why is it that we are always betrayed?”

“Your Grace,” stammered Wolsey, who was near exhaustion and whose mind had been concentrated on the King’s divorce, “this will mean that Campeggio will never give us the verdict we want.”

“This trial is nothing but a mockery!” roared the King. “Is it not marvellous that I should be made to wait so long for that which others have for the asking?”

“Circumstances have moved against us, Your Grace. But for the sack of Rome…”

“Do not give me your buts…,” cried the King. “Give me freedom to marry, that I may provide my kingdom with an heir.”

“It would seem, Your Grace, that we should make another appeal to the Queen. If she would but retire to a convent, I am certain that Clement would immediately grant the divorce. All we need is her consent to do so, nay her desire to do so. The Emperor himself would not object to that.”

“She must be made to see reason,” insisted the King.

“Your Grace, have I your permission to make one more appeal to her?”

“Do so, without delay.”

Wolsey was relieved to escape from the King, and immediately went to Campeggio’s apartments, and there made the suggestion that they should go to the Queen and endeavor to show her what a benefit she would confer, not only on herself, but on all others, if she would retire to a nunnery.


* * *

THE TWO CARDINALS went by barge to Bridewell where the Queen at that time had her lodging. She was sitting with some of her women, working on her embroidery, for, she had said, she was so melancholy at this time that working with bright colors raised her spirits.

When she heard that the Cardinals had called on her, she went to greet them with skeins of red and white silk hanging about her neck.

“Your Grace,” said Wolsey, “we crave your pardon for disturbing your peace, and pray you to give us a hearing.”

“Gladly will I do so,” she answered, “but I cannot argue with such as you. I am not clever enough.” She touched the skeins about her neck. “You see how I pass my time, and my maids are not the ablest counsellors, yet I have no others in England. And Spain, where there are those on whom I could rely, is far away.”

“Take us into your privy chamber,” said Wolsey, “and there we will show you the cause of our coming.”

“My Lords,” answered the Queen, “if you have anything to say, speak it openly before these folk, for I fear nothing that can be alleged against me, but I would all the world should see and hear it. Therefore speak your minds openly, I pray you.”

Wolsey was uneasy and had no desire to speak before the women, so he began to explain his mission in Latin, but Katharine interrupted.

“Pray, my good lord, speak to me in English, for I can, thank God, speak and understand English, though I do know some Latin.”

So there was nothing to be done but to speak to her in the presence of her women in English, and Wolsey said: “Your Grace, if you will consent to the divorce you shall lack nothing you desire in riches and honors. If you should desire to go into a convent, which would be a seemly setting for your devout manner of living, you shall have all that you require there. The King will place the Princess Mary next in order of succession to the issue of his second marriage.”

“My lords,” said Katharine, “I could not answer you suddenly, for I have no one to advise me.”

Campeggio said: “Cardinal Wolsey and I would gladly give you the advice you need.”

“Then now come to my private chamber and there we will speak of these matters,” she said.

So the two Cardinals and the Queen retired together, and she told them once more that she had no wish to enter a convent, that the Princess Mary was the true heir to the throne, that she herself was indeed married to the King, for she had never in truth been wife to his brother; and this she would maintain no matter what befell her.

It was clear to the Cardinals that they could not make her change her decision, so they left her, Wolsey in deep melancholy, Campeggio determined to bring a speedy end to the case.

“This matter,” said Wolsey as they stepped into the barge, “must be settled without delay. We must give our judgment, and, on what we have heard, how can we help but decide in the King’s favor?”

Campeggio shook his head. “I am not satisfied that we have heard all the truth. The Queen is right when she says this is a prejudiced court. Nay, there is one course open to us. We must refer the matter to His Holiness.”

“The King will never stomach further delay.”

“This matter,” answered Campeggio, “is not in the King’s hands.”

Wolsey did not answer. He envied Campeggio his freedom. He would return to Rome where he had only to answer to the Pope and by delaying judgment he had carried out his orders. But Wolsey…he had served the King, and each day Henry’s displeasure and dissatisfaction increased.

So slowly they sailed along the river—Campeggio would leave the barge for his lodgings and the rest for which his limbs were crying out, but Wolsey must return to the King and once more report failure.


* * *

CAMPEGGIO ARRIVED at the court. He took his place beside Wolsey, but as the proceedings were about to open, he rose and addressed the company.