KING HENRY. I never change my mind. George need not be poor. But if he’s obstructive…
THOMAS. Leave it a day or two, sir.
KING HENRY. Now listen. (He sings.)
The daisy delectable
The violet wan and blue
I am not variable…
It’s an old song I’m trying to rework. What rhymes with ‘blue’? Apart from ‘new’?
THOMAS. Few, flew, mew, hue, do, grew, we two, you too, rue – glue, Jew, stew…
KING HENRY. You’d better leave us, Cromwell. I’m writing this for Jane and you’re distracting me.
THOMAS bows and returns to his office, where MARY SHELTON is waiting.
Scene Twenty-One
Austin Friars.
MARY SHELTON. I pray I may never see another day like this one.
THOMAS. Mary Shelton!
MARY SHELTON. You know Harry Norris and I were to be married? Well, we’ve been quarrelling over young Weston – that boy’s always in the Queen’s rooms – and Harry suspects he comes for me –
Flashback:
NORRIS. I’ll give that young puppy a kicking he’ll not forget.
ANNE. No kicking in my chamber, if you please.
NORRIS. Then I’ll take him into the courtyard and kick him –
WESTON. You know who I come for – it’s not your Mary Shelton.
ANNE. Don’t tell us – let’s guess! Whom do you love, Francis? Lady Rochford? Lady Worcester?
WESTON. You know very well – it’s yourself.
ANNE. Then my brother George will kick you too! (Laughs.)
Enter BRERETON.
William Brereton! Now, here’s the man for me!
THOMAS. Let me be absolutely clear, Mary. Go over that last bit again.
Replay.
WESTON. You know who I come for – it’s not your Mary Shelton.
ANNE. Don’t tell us – let’s guess! Whom do you love, Francis? Lady Rochford? Lady Worcester?
WESTON. You know very well – it’s yourself.
ANNE. Then my brother George will kick you too! (Laughs.)
Enter BRERETON.
William Brereton! Now, here’s the man for me!
THOMAS. Jesus! William Brereton – who would have believed it possible?
MARY SHELTON. One minute she’s reading Tyndale’s Gospels, next moment… you’d swear a demon gets into her. She torments them all.
THOMAS. What of today? You were praying you’d never see another day like this one.
MARY SHELTON. Mark began it.
THOMAS. Mark Smeaton?
MARY SHELTON. The Queen was tousling him and pulling his ears.
ANNE. Oh, look at this poor little doggie!
MARK, weeping, kneels.
MARK. Lady, I beg you –
ANNE. Oh, for Mary’s sweet sake, get up – and think yourself favoured that I notice you at all. A lover, and struck dumb? Come on! Praise my eyes – are they not lodestars?
MARK. Farewell.
MARK turns his back and hurries away. ANNE laughs at him.
ANNE. Does he imagine I’m some night-walking slut from the Paris Garden?
JANE ROCHFORD. Mark should be dropped from a great height… like your other lapdog. (Laughs.)
ANNE. Oh! (Slaps JANE ROCHFORD – bursts into tears.)
JANE ROCHFORD. Do that again and I’ll buffet you back. You – a queen? You’re a mere knight’s daughter – and your day’s nearly over!
ANNE. Norris, you swore you’d do anything for me –
NORRIS. Majesty?
ANNE. Then take away my brother’s wife and drown her –
NORRIS. But –
ANNE. Do it! You swore you’d walk barefoot to China for me.
NORRIS. I believe it was barefoot to Walsingham.
ANNE. To Walsingham then – confess your sins there! You pray the King will die, don’t you – so you can have me in your bed? Hoping for dead men’s shoes! Norris won’t marry you, Shelton, because he swears he’ll be mine! But he’ll do nothing for me – not one simple thing! – like putting Lady Rochford in a sack and carrying her to the riverbank.
JANE ROCHFORD exits in tears.
NORRIS. Will you spill all our secrets? Are you mad?
He hurries away.
ANNE. Harry! Harry!
THOMAS. ‘Spill all our secrets’? You’re sure he said ‘our’ and not ‘your’? Who heard this?
MARY SHELTON. All of us. Anne’s terrified Jane Rochford will go to the King.
THOMAS. It’s treason, you know – to imagine the death of a king.
MARY SHELTON. Harry Norris won’t marry me now.
THOMAS. I’ll marry you, Mary.
MARY SHELTON. Never! You think yourself too great a prize.
She goes. Enter JANE ROCHFORD.
JANE ROCHFORD. The whole of England knows about it now – the Queen and Harry Norris. The King’s beside himself – face crimson – he’s convinced she’s cuckolded him – and Anne holding up her little ginger pig to him, ‘Husband – how can you doubt she is your daughter?’ (Laughs.)
THOMAS. Why come to me?
JANE ROCHFORD. All her women want to speak out – to save ourselves. If Anne’s been playing the whore we’ll be blamed for concealing it.
THOMAS. You once told me she was desperate to get a child but believed the King no longer capable of fathering one. Would you repeat that before a court?
JANE ROCHFORD. Well… Now it’s come out about Norris and Weston –
THOMAS. But surely – these expressions of love? Isn’t it just a form of courtesy?
JANE ROCHFORD. You think so? It’s been going on for years. Norris and Weston aren’t the only ones. Men come and go by night. If anyone queries why, they say they’re on His Majesty’s business. King’s messengers brook no questioning. Before Henry married Anne she used to work him in the French fashion. You know what I mean? Oh, come – you’ve been in France! She made him spill his seed otherwise than he should. He calls it a filthy proceeding – and he blames her for the guilt he feels. God love him, Henry does not know where filth begins! My husband George does – he’s always with Anne –
THOMAS. He’s her brother. Lady Rochford, I know you’d have it a crime to be a fond brother and a cold husband – but no statute makes it so –
JANE ROCHFORD. He’d go to it with a terrier bitch if she wagged her tail at him and said ‘bow-wow’. He’s given me a disease – I’m afraid I’ll die of it… He spends time in her chamber. Alone with her – the door closed –
THOMAS. In conversation?
JANE ROCHFORD. I listen at the door and hear no voices.
THOMAS. Perhaps they join in silent prayer –
JANE ROCHFORD. I’ve seen them kiss –
THOMAS. A brother may kiss his sister –
JANE ROCHFORD. His tongue in her mouth – hers in his?
THOMAS. Why would she do that?
JANE ROCHFORD. Work it out. If she gets a boy and it has Weston’s face – if it looks like Norris or Brereton – what then? But they cannot say it’s a bastard if it looks like a Boleyn. It would kill Henry if he knew how they laugh at him. How they talk of his member. (Laughs.)
THOMAS. Does George ever speak of the King’s death? Think before you answer. If you give evidence against your husband in court or in Council, you may find yourself a lonely woman in years to come. And be advised by me. Talk to no one.
JANE ROCHFORD. Be advised by me. Talk to Mark Smeaton.
Exit JANE ROCHFORD. It grows dark. WOLSEY’S GHOST comes forward – he’s been there all through the scene. Other GHOSTS and shapes only half-seen.
WOLSEY’S GHOST. I see what you’re up to – turning over stones, prodding rotten logs – waiting to see what crawls out.
THOMAS. Have you any better ideas?
WOLSEY’S GHOST. Thomas… You’re in our world now. You’re walking with the dead. Don’t lose your soul for Henry.
THOMAS. Did you lose yours?
WOLSEY’S GHOS
T (gently). Can’t you smell the scorching?
Scene Twenty-Two
Scene grows darker.
CHRISTOPHE. It’s cold – I’ll light the fire?
THOMAS. No, Christophe – not yet.
RAFE brings in MARK.
RAFE. Here’s Mark. He’s brought his instrument.
THOMAS. It won’t be needed.
MARK. Sir? I thought I was here to entertain you.
THOMAS. You are. I must ask your charity, Mark. My master the King and my mistress the Queen are at odds. My dearest wish is to reconcile them. What bitter days these are! I can’t remember such a time of tension and misery – not since the Cardinal came down. I’ve asked you here because you’re close to the Queen. Can you tell me why she’s so unhappy?
MARK. Is it any wonder she’s unhappy? She’s in love!
THOMAS. Is she?
MARK. Of course.
THOMAS. With whom?
MARK. With me… I see I’ve amazed you?
THOMAS (caught off-guard). Not so! I’ve seen you together, Mark – observed the eloquent looks that pass between you… If these may be seen in public, what then in private?
RAFE. You’re a very handsome young man.
THOMAS. Any woman would be drawn to you.
RAFE. Though everyone thinks you’re a sodomite.
MARK. Not I, sir! I’m as good a man as any of them.
THOMAS. So the Queen would give a good account of you… as a man? She’s tried you and found you… to her liking?
MARK. I can’t discuss it.
THOMAS. Quite right. Nor should we.
RAFE. So we must draw our own conclusions.
THOMAS. She’s not an inexperienced woman. Would she be interested in a less than masterly performance?
RAFE. I think not.
MARK. We poor men – poor men born – are in no wise inferior in that way.
THOMAS. And often superior.
RAFE. To her more noble young lovers?
THOMAS. She does have other lovers?
MARK. Ha! They’re all jealous of me.
RAFE. Ah! She has tried them all –
THOMAS. And Mark takes the prize. Oho – we must congratulate you, Mark. (Pause.)
RAFE. How many times have you fucked her?
Chill descends.
THOMAS. It can’t be easy to manage – to lie with the Queen – even though her ladies are complicit.
MARK. Ha! Her ladies are no friends to me! They’d never admit what I’ve told you is true. They’re friends to Norris and Weston – those gentlemen. I’m nothing to them – they ruffle my hair and call me ‘waiting boy’. And…
THOMAS. The Queen’s your only friend. But such a friend! Now… you’ve given us two names: Norris – Weston… Tell us who the others are. And answer Master Sadler’s question: how many times?
MARK freezes.
Well… it doesn’t matter. The Council will be astonished to hear of your prowess, Mark – there’ll be many lords who will envy you. But now you’ll want your supper, won’t you? – We all want our supper, so let’s get on. Let’s get everything down in writing. Ink and paper, Rafe.
MARK. I can mention no names.
THOMAS. Perhaps she tells you she has no other lovers? She’s yours alone? Oh, Mark – she’s deceiving you! Don’t you see? She could do that, don’t you think? Look how easily you and she deceive the King.
MARK. No! I don’t know how I came to say what I said.
THOMAS. Nor do I. No one hurt you, did they? You spoke freely.
RAFE. You said all her other lovers were jealous of you?
MARK. I take it back.
THOMAS. It’s turned chilly in here.
RAFE. We should have a fire lit.
A BOY appears and lights the fire. This takes time. MARK stands. Nobody stops him. He goes to the door. Nobody stops him. MARK tries to speak, and then bows, and goes out, closing the door behind him. After a while, CHRISTOPHE leads MARK back into the room, pulling him in gently by the hand.
CHRISTOPHE. Come – seat yourself again, pretty boy.
THOMAS. Ambition is a sin, Mark. Or so they tell me. Whom did you displace in the Queen’s bed? Norris?
RAFE. It was – wasn’t it? Harry Norris?
THOMAS. If your confession is prompt and full, clear and unsparing –
MARK. Confession! –
THOMAS. It’s possible that the King will show you mercy.
MARK (terrified). I don’t know!
THOMAS. The others are more culpable – trusted, educated gentlemen – raised to greatness by the King. Whereas you are very young – more to be pitied than punished.
MARK. I dare not name names.
RAFE. Then tell us first about your own adultery with the Queen. No? Do you need time to think it over – time alone? Why not go and spend ten minutes – with Christophe here?
CHRISTOPHE. Five would do it.
MARK. Mother Mary help me!
THOMAS. No one wants your pain, Mark. I’ve no use for your screams. I need words that make sense – words Master Sadler can transcribe –
RALPH. You’ve already spoken them –
THOMAS. Why is it so difficult to speak them again?
Pause.
MARK. Tell me again… what I must say – what my confession must be… Clear and… what was it? But, you understand me, sir, I cannot tell you what I do not know?
THOMAS. Can you not? Then you must be my guest tonight. In the morning, Mark, your head will be clear and your memory perfect. Why protect the gentlemen who share your sin? Believe me, if your positions were reversed, they’d not spare a thought for you.
RAFE. So. Harry Norris? (Writes.)
MARK. Yes.
THOMAS. William Brereton?
MARK. Yes.
THOMAS. Francis Weston?
MARK. Yes.
THOMAS. Her brother George – Lord Rochford?
MARK. Yes – that’s well known. And Thomas Wyatt –
THOMAS. No. Not Wyatt.
CHRISTOPHE playfully slaps MARK across the head.
MARK. No – not Wyatt.
THOMAS. And you have had to do with the Queen how many times?
MARK. A hundred.
Another slap.
A thousand.
Another slap.
RAFE. Three or four?
MARK. Three or four.
THOMAS. Thank you.
MARK. What will happen to me?
THOMAS. That rests with the court that will try you.
MARK. What will happen to the Queen?
THOMAS. That rests with the King. Go and sleep now, Mark. Christophe will stay with you.
CHRISTOPHE leads MARK away gently, by the hand.
In the morning who will he not give us? Kitchen boys, cooks, and Archbishop Cranmer if we want them…
RAFE. You should bring in Wyatt too, sir. I don’t see how you can go on protecting him. For years there’s been talk – Wyatt stands first in suspicion.
THOMAS. It’s not Wyatt who stands in my way with the King. It’s not he who drops slanders against me like poison into Henry’s ear. Any more worries?
RAFE. People are saying that if Henry marries Edward Seymour’s sister – she’ll take him back to Rome.
THOMAS. Who would you back in a fight, Rafe – me? Or Jane Seymour?
Scene Twenty-Three
Night, confusion, NORRIS, MARK, BRERETON, GEORGE and WESTON are carried off to the Tower. WILLIAM KINGSTON and his MEN receive them and lock them in separate cells.
KING HENRY. Norris denies everything. The Lord Chancellor questioned him and he went so far as to admit he loves her. But when it was put to him that he’s an adulterer who wishes me dead so he can marry her, he says, ‘No, no – and no.’ So now you must put questions to him. If he confesses – if he names the others – there can be mercy.
THOMAS. Mark Smeaton has named the others.
KING HENRY. Cromwell, these are men I have called my friends. I’ll not trust the word of some
lovesick boy. (Whispers.) What does it mean when a woman turns herself about, and about in bed? Offering herself this way and that? Where would any woman, not bred in a whorehouse, get such knowledge? A sober, godly matron whose only duty is to get a child?
THOMAS. I’ve no answer, sir.
KING HENRY. Cranmer cannot believe it – and yet he must. She deceived those godly men – men who see into the truth of things. Is it any wonder she deceived me? I’m a simple man. She swore she was untouched – I believed her. Some of these acts alleged against her are not fit for discussion among decent people. Her brother? Her own brother! But I miss Jane. I want to look at her. Can’t we bring her here?
THOMAS. No. Let’s wait until the business is more forward.
KING HENRY. No, you are right – she must not be brought here until the air is pure again. Go to her, Thomas – take Jane this… (A small book.) It was my wife’s – I mean to say, it was poor Katherine’s… You can arrest the… her… now. Be close – be discreet.
Scene Twenty-Four
Outside ANNE’s chamber. THOMAS and RAFE, GUARDS and COUNCILLORS.
NORFOLK. Cromwell, this must not bear on the Howards – only the Boleyns. I want her father’s titles taken off him – I want him diminished – cast down in all his pride. I warned Henry of her character, but would he listen?
SUFFOLK. I warned him too – I was thrown out of Court.
THOMAS. My Lord, do you have the warrant?
They go in.
ANNE. Cremuel… I created you –
NORFOLK. He created you, madam.
SUFFOLK. And now he repents him of it.
ANNE. Take me to my husband the King. Let them row me up to Whitehall – I would rather not go to the Tower.
No response.
Surely you’ll not take me like this? I’ve no necessities – not so much as a change of shift. And I want my own women with me – Mary Shelton, Beth Worcester – so I can keep my proper state.
THOMAS. Madam, your household is to be dissolved.
Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies Page 22
