was but obeying the will of the King in what he was doing.
“In truth,” he said quietly, “it would be presumptuous of me to direct Your Highness’s reading. I would but express an opinion that it might be unwise for the Queen’s Grace to have in her possession books given to her by those who, by order of the King, have been found guilty of heresy and sentenced to death.”
The King’s eyes glistened; they almost disappeared into his face as they did in moments of great pleasure or anger.
“What books are these?” he growled. “Has our Queen become the friend of those who work against us?”
Gardiner caught the note of excitement in the King’s voice. Was this the moment? Could he, by subtle words, trap the Queen, as he and the Chancellor had been unable to do by applying the torture to Anne Askew?
“Indeed not,” said Katharine.
She saw the crafty wickedness in her husband’s eyes, and because of what had happened to those who had shared his throne before her, she read his thoughts.
“Not so?” said the King. “We would be sure of that.”
“Your Majesty will hear me out?” said Katharine.
The King would not look at her. “I am weary of these conflicts,” he said. “I will not have my Queen take part in them…or if she does, she will not long remain my Queen.”
The threat in his words terrified Katharine. “Courage!” she prayed, as Anne Askew had prayed before her. But she knew that she, who loved life so much, could never face death as Anne had. Anne had longed for death, for martyrdom; and Katharine had never ceased to long for life and Thomas Seymour.
“Conflicts…?” she stammered.
“You heard us,” said the King; and the scowl on his brow had deepened. His anger shifted from the Queen to Gardiner. At that moment he disliked them both heartily and he was thinking: I am a King, heavily burdened with matters of state. I need pleasure to soothe me; I need gentle relaxation. Instead I have these two to plague me. Methinks it is time I rid myself of them both. “It would appear,” he continued, keeping his eyes on Gardiner, “that there are some among us who, in place of preaching the Word of God, do nothing but rail against one another.” His eyes shifted unpleasantly from the Bishop to the Queen and back to the Bishop. “If any know that there are those among us who preach perverse doctrines, he should come and declare it before us or some of our council. Have I not said it before?”
Gardiner murmured: “Your Majesty has indeed, and it shall be done….”
The King waved a hand; he was not going to endure one of Gardiner’s speeches. If any should speak now it would be the King.
“We now permit our subjects to read the Holy Scriptures,” he said, “and to have the Word of God in our mother tongue, and I will have it known that it is licensed them so to do only to inform their consciences, their children and their families, and not to dispute and to make scripture a railing and a taunting stock. This I have said to my parliament, and now I say it to you, Bishop, and to you, wife. I am sorry to know how irreverently that precious jewel, the Word of God, is disputed, rhymed, sung and jangled in every alehouse and tavern, contrary to the true meaning and doctrine of the same.”
He paused and raised his eyes devoutly to the ceiling, as though he knew that God was watching and applauding.
“My lord King,” said Katharine, “when Your Most Gracious Majesty says ‘to dispute,’ Your Grace cannot mean that it is not lawful to discuss, one with another, the interpretation of the Gospel?”
“I should have thought that we had stated our meaning clearly,” said the King with weary menace. “What do you, madam? Would you question the decision of our ministers?”
“Never, my lord, but…but…”
“But? But?” cried the King threateningly. “You would then question our decision?”
“I do no such thing, Your Majesty,” said Katharine quickly, “since it would be unseemly on my part. I would only beg Your Grace that you might cease to forbid the use of that translation which you previously licensed.”
The King let loose his anger. He flagellated it to greater vehemence. He wanted to find fault with his wife; he was tired of her. Through the haze of his fury he saw the alluring body of the Duchess of Suffolk.
“By my faith!” he