s back twenty thousand swords.
For that side of the matter Katharine Howard was even a safeguard,
since with her love of truth she would assuredly combat these liars
with the King.
But, on the other hand, the King had his superstitious fears; only
that night, pale, red-eyed and heavy, and being unable to sleep, he
had sent to rouse Cromwell and had furiously rated him, calling him
knave and shaking him by the shoulder, telling him for the twentieth
time to find a way to make a peace with the Bishop of Rome. These were
only night-fears--but, if Cleves should desert Henry and
Protestantism, if all Europe should stand solid for the Pope, Henry's
night-fears might eat up his day as well. Then indeed Katharine would
be dangerous. So that she was indeed half foe, half friend.
It hinged all upon Cleves; for if Cleves stood friend to Protestantism
the King would fear no treason; if Cleves sued for pardon to the
Emperor and Rome, Henry must swing towards Katharine. Therefore, if
Cleves stood firm to Protestantism and defied the Emperor, it would be
safe to work at destroying Katharine; if not, he must leave her by the
King to defend his very loyalty.
The Archbishop challenged him with uplifted questioning eyebrows, and
he answered his gaze with:
'God help ye, goodman Bishop; it were easier for thee to deal with
this maid than for me. She would take thee to her friend if thou
wouldst curry with Rome.'
'Aye,' Cranmer answered. 'But would Rome have truck with me?' and he
shook his head bitterly. He had been made Archbishop with no sanction
from Rome.
Cromwell turned upon Wriothesley; the debonair smile was gone from his
face; the friendly contempt that he had for the Archbishop was gone
too; his eyes were hard, cruel and red, his lips hardened.
'Ye have done me a very evil turn,' he said. 'Ye spoke stiff-necked
folly to this lady. Ye shall learn, Protestants that ye are, that if I
be the flail of the monks I may be a hail, a lightning, a bolt from
heaven upon Lutherans that cross the King.'
The hard malice of his glance made Wriothesley quail and flush
heavily.
'I thought ye had been our friend,' he said.
'Wriothesley,' Cromwell answered, 'I tell thee, silly knave, that I be
friend only to them that love the order and peace I have made, under
the King's Highness, in this realm. If it be the King's will to
stablish again the old faith, a hammer of iron will I be upon such as
do raise their heads against it. I
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