city. He might be bishop of Rome, or pope
also, if he preferred the name; but the see of Rome should have no more
jurisdiction in England, and he thought he would be none the worse
Christian on that account, but rather the better. Jesus Christ he would
acknowledge, and him only, as the true Lord of Christian men, and
Christ's word only should be preached in England. The Spaniards might
invade him as they threatened. He did not fear them. They might come,
but they might not find it so easy to return.[184]

The King had taken his position and was prepared for the consequences.
He had foreseen for more than a year the possibility of an attempted
invasion; and since his marriage, he had been aware that the chances of
success in the adventure had been discussed on the Continent by the
papal and imperial party. The pope had spoken of his censures being
enforced, and Francis had revealed to Henry the nature of the dangerous
overtures which had been made to himself. The Lutheran princes had
hurriedly declined to connect themselves in any kind of alliance with
England: and on the 25th of September, Stephen Vaughan had reported that
troops were being raised in Germany, which rumour destined for
Catherine's service.[185] Ireland, too, as we shall hear in the next
chapter, was on the verge of an insurrection, which had been fomented by
papal agents.

[Sidenote: The conditions under which invasion might be dangerous.]

[Sidenote: Apparent tranquillity of England.]

[Sidenote: The Nun of Kent's conspiracy.]

Nevertheless, there was no real danger from an invasion, unless it was
accompanied with an insurrection at home, or with a simultaneous attack
from Scotland; and while of the first there appeared upon the surface no
probability, with Scotland a truce for a year had been concluded on the
1st of October.[186] The king, therefore, had felt himself reasonably
secure. Parliament had seemed unanimous; the clergy were submissive;
the nation acquiescent or openly approving;[187] and as late as the
beginning of November, 1533, no suspicion seems to have been entertained
of the spread of serious disaffection. A great internal revolution had
been accomplished; a conflict of centuries between the civil and
spiritual powers had been terminated without a life lost or a blow
struck. Partial murmurs there had been, but murmurs were inevitable,
and, so far as the government yet knew, were harmless. The Scotch war
had threatened to be dangero