Windsor Castle, William Harrison Ainsworth [ereader for textbooks .TXT] 📗

abused the trust placed in
me. The sole fault that can be imputed to me is, that I have meddled
more with temporal matters than with spiritual, and it is a crime for
which I must answer before Heaven. But I have so acted because I felt
that I might thereby best serve your highness. If I have aspired to the
papal throne--which you well know I have--it has been that I might be
yet a more powerful friend to your majesty, and render you what you
are entitled to be, the first prince in Christendom."

"Tut, tut!" exclaimed the king, who was, nevertheless, moved by the
artful appeal.

"The gifts I have received from foreign princes," pursued Wolsey,
seeing the effect he had produced, "the wealth I have amassed, have
all been with a view of benefiting your majesty." "Humph!" exclaimed
the king.

"To prove that I speak the truth, sire," continued the wily cardinal, "the palace at Hampton Court, which I have just completed--"

"And at a cost more lavish than I myself should have expended on it,"
interrupted the king angrily.

"If I had destined it for myself, I should not have spent a tithe of what I
have done," rejoined Wolsey. "Your highness's unjust accusations
force me to declare my intentions somewhat prematurely. Deign," he
cried, throwing at the king's feet, "deign to accept that palace and all
within it. You were pleased, during your late residence there,to
express your approval of it. And I trust it will find equal favour in your
eyes, now that it is your own."

"By holy Mary, a royal gift!" cried Henry. "Rise, You are not the
grasping, selfish person you have been represented."

"Declare as much to my enemies, sire, and I shall be more content.
"You will find the palace better worth acceptance than at first sight
might appear."

"How so?" cried the king.

" Your highness will be pleased to take this key," said the cardinal; "it
is the key of the cellar."

"You have some choice wine there," cried Henry significantly; "given
you by some religious house, or sent you by some foreign potentate,
ha!"

"It is wine that a king might prize," replied the cardinal. "Your majesty
will find a hundred hogsheads in that cellar, and each hogshead filled
with gold."

"You amaze me!" cried the king, feigning astonishment. "And all this
you freely give me?"

"Freely and fully, sire," replied Wolsey. "Nay, I have saved it for you.
Men think I have cared for myself, whereas I have cared only for your
majesty. Oh! my dear liege, by the devotion I have just approved to
you, and which I would also approve, if needful, with my life, I beseech
you to consider well before you raise Anne Boleyn to the throne. In
giving you this counsel, I know I hazard the favour I have just regained.
But even at that hazard, I must offer it. Your infatuation blinds you to
the terrible consequences of the step. The union is odious to all your
subjects, but most of all to those not tainted with the new heresies and
opinions. It will never be forgiven by the Emperor Charles the Fifth,
who will seek to avenge the indignity offered to his illustrious relative;
while Francis will gladly make it a pretext for breaking his truce with
you. Add to this the displeasure of the Apostolic See, and it must be
apparent that, powerful as you are, your position will be one of infinite
peril."

"Thus far advanced, I cannot honourably abandon the divorce," said
Henry.

"Nor do I advise its abandonment, sire," replied Wolsey; "but do not let
it be a means of injuring you with all men. Do not let a mal-alliance
place your very throne in jeopardy; as, with your own subjects and all
foreign powers against you, must necessarily be the case."

"You speak warmly, cardinal," said Henry.

"My zeal prompts me to do so," replied Wolsey. "Anne Boleyn is in no
respect worthy of the honour you propose her."

"And whom do you think more worthy?" demanded Henry.

"Those whom I have already recommended to your majesty, the
Duchess d'Alencon, or the Princess Renee," replied Wolsey; "by a union
with either of whom you would secure the cordial co-operation of
Francis, and the interests of the see of Rome, which, in the event of a
war with Spain, you may need."

"No, Wolsey," replied Henry, taking a hasty turn across the chamber;
"no considerations of interests or security shall induce me to give up
Anne. I love her too well for that. Let the lion Charles roar, the fox
Francis snarl, and the hydra-headed Clement launch forth his flames, I
will remain firm to my purpose. I will not play the hypocrite with you,
whatever I may do with others. I cast off Catherine that I may wed
Anne, because I cannot otherwise obtain her. And shall I now, when I
have dared so much, and when the prize is within my grasp, abandon
it?--Never! Threats, expostulations, entreaties are alike unavailing."

"I grieve to hear it, my liege," replied Wolsey, heaving a deep sigh. "It
is an ill-omened union, and will bring woe to you, woe to your realm,
and woe to the Catholic Church."

"And woe to you also, false cardinal," cried Anne Boleyn, throwing
aside the arras, and stepping forward. "I have overheard what has
passed; and from my heart of hearts I thank you, Henry, for the love
you have displayed for me. But I here solemnly vow never to give my
hand to you till Wolsey is dismissed from your counsels."

"Anne!" exclaimed the king.

"My own enmity I could forego," pursued Anne vehemently,"but I
cannot forgive him his duplicity and perfidy towards you. He has just
proffered you his splendid palace of Hampton, and his treasures; and
wherefore?--I will tell you: because he feared they would be wrested
from him. His jester had acquainted him with the discovery just made
of the secret hoard, and he was therefore compelled to have recourse
to this desperate move. But I was apprized of his intentions by Will
Sommers, and have come in time to foil him."

"By my faith, I believe you are right, sweetheart," said the king.

"Go, tell your allies, Francis and Clement, that the king's love for me
outweighs his fear of them," cried Anne, laughing spitefully. "As for
you, I regard you as nothing."

"Vain woman, your pride will be abased," rejoined Wolsey bitterly.

"Vain man, you are already abased," replied Anne. "A few weeks ago I
would have made terms with you. Now I am your mortal enemy, and
will never rest till I have procured your downfall."

"The king will have an amiable consort, truly," sneered Wolsey.

"He will have one who can love him and hate his foes," replied Anne;
"and not one who would side with them and thee, as would be the case
with the Duchess d'Alencon or the Princess Renee. Henry, you know
the sole terms on which you can procure my hand."

The king nodded a playful affirmative.

"Then dismiss him at once, disgrace him," said Anne.

"Nay, nay," replied Henry," the divorce is not yet passed. You are
angered now, and will view matters more coolly to-morrow."

"I shall never change my resolution," she replied.

"If my dismissal and disgrace can save my sovereign, I pray him to
sacrifice me without hesitation," said Wolsey; "but while I have liberty
of speech with him, and aught of power remaining, I will use it to his
advantage. I pray your majesty suffer me to retire."

And receiving a sign of acquiescence from the king, he withdrew, amid
the triumphant laughter of Anne.


IX. How Tristram Lyndwood was interrogated by the King.


Anne Boleyn remained with her royal lover for a few minutes to pour forth her gratitude for the attachment he had displayed to her, and to confirm the advantage she had gained over Wolsey. As soon as she was gone, Henry summoned an usher, and giving him some instructions respecting Mabel Lyndwood, proceeded to the Curfew Tower.

Nothing was said to him of the strange noise that had been heard in the upper chamber, for the arquebusiers were fearful of exciting his displeasure by a confession of their alarm, and he descended at once to the dungeon.

"Well, fellow," he cried, sternly regarding the captive, who arose at his entrance, "you have now had ample time for reflection, and I trust are in a better frame of mind than when I last spoke with you. I command you to declare all you know concerning Herne the Hunter, and to give me such information respecting the proscribed felon, Morgan Fenwolf, as will enable me to accomplish his capture."

"I have already told your highness that my mouth is sealed by an oath of secrecy," replied Tristram, humbly, but firmly.

"Obstinate dog! thou shalt either speak, or I will hang thee from the top of this tower, as I hanged Mark Fytton the butcher," roared Henry.

"You will execute your sovereign pleasure, my liege," said the old man. "My life is in your hands. It is little matter whether it is closed now or a year hence. I have well nigh run out my term."

"If thou carest not for thyself, thou mayest not be equally indifferent to another," cried the king. "What ho! bring in his granddaughter."

The old man started at the command, and trembled violently. The next moment, Mabel was led into the dungeon by Shoreditch and Paddington. Behind her came Nicholas Clamp. On seeing her grandsire, she uttered a loud cry and would have rushed towards him, but she was held back by her companions.

"Oh grandfather!" she cried, "what have you done?-why do I find you here?"

Tristram groaned, and averted his head.

"He is charged with felony and sorcery," said the king sternly, and you, maiden, come under the same suspicion."

"Believe it not, sire," cried the old man, flinging himself at Henry's feet; "oh, believe it not. Whatever you may judge of me, believe her innocent. She was brought up most devoutly, by a lay sister of the monastery at Chertsey; and she knows nothing, save by report, of what passes in the forest."

"Yet she has seen and conversed with Morgan Fenwolf," the king.

"Not since he was outlawed," said Tristram.

"I saw him to--day, as I was brought to the castle," cried Mabel, "and--" but recollecting that she might implicate her grandfather, she suddenly stopped.

"What said he ?--ha!" demanded the king.

"I will tell your majesty what passed," interposed Nicholas Clamp,