by Mike Poulton
SUFFOLK (aside-ish). God help us.
BOLEYN. His Majesty has charged me with…
KING HENRY arrives – a great sulky baby, meeting nobody’s eye. BOLEYN leaps from the throne as if it’s red hot and KING HENRY sits.
KING HENRY. Get on with it.
Fraught pause – they all look at THOMAS who stares into the middle distance. Panic. Then all except THOMAS talk at once: ‘Majesty. If it please you. Would Your Majesty graciously please. The business is…’ etc.
Sweet Jesu! Bleat, bleat, bleat! Is this my Council or the farmyard?
BOLEYN. If it please you, Majesty, for the good of the commonweal, look favourably on the Emperor’s –
KING HENRY. For the good of the commonweal, I must receive Chapuys, continue our negotiations, and swallow any personal insults I receive.
NORFOLK. Like a draught of medicine, Henry. Bitter – but, for the sake of England, don’t spit.
KING HENRY. Next?
SUFFOLK. We should discuss the marriage of the Lady Mary.
KING HENRY. Oh? Why?
BOLEYN. Her doctors say congress with a man would be good for her health. If a young woman’s vital spirits are bottled, her appetites wane and she begins to waste. Marriage will cure her.
SUFFOLK. Is marriage the only cure?
BOLEYN. That, or strenuous exercise on horseback.
SUFFOLK. Difficult for somebody under house arrest.
KING HENRY. The Emperor wants my daughter married to one of his relatives. That will not occur. Mary will not go out of this realm. She’ll go nowhere while her behaviour to me is not what it ought to be.
THOMAS. Her mother’s death is raw with her. No doubt she will see her duty over these next weeks.
BOLEYN. Ah! Finally we hear from Cromwell. You usually speak first, last, and in the middle – so we, more modest Councillors, are obliged to speak sotto voce, or not at all. Does your reticence relate in any way to the check His Majesty gave you?
KING HENRY (icily). Thank you for that, Boleyn.
NORFOLK. If Mary refuses to swear loyalty to the King and his daughter Elizabeth, I’d plant her hand on the Gospel and beat her head against the wall till it were as soft as a baked apple.
KING HENRY. And thank you, Lord Norfolk. I’m sure you would. We have not so many children that we can well afford to lose one. In time she will, I hope, be a good daughter to me. (Stands suddenly.) Master Secretary, walk along with me…
THOMAS follows.
You know… I wish we could go down to the Weald one day, to talk to the ironmasters.
THOMAS waits.
I’ve had drawings made – mathematical drawings, and taken advice as to how our ordnance can be improved, but – to be truthful – I can’t make as much of it as you would.
THOMAS waits respectfully.
One must study the process from the beginning, I think – whether it’s making ordnance, or armour. (Pause.) I’ve never been too proud to sit down for an hour with the gauntlet maker who armours my right hand. We must study, I think, every pin – every rivet. (Still nothing.) And… And so… as you are my right hand, sir…
THOMAS nods, sympathetically.
So, to Kent – to the Weald – will we go?
THOMAS (smiling). Not this summer, sir. No. You will be employed otherwise. Besides, the ironmasters need their holiday. They must lie in the sun. They must pick their apples.
KING HENRY (mild, beseeching). Give me a happy summer. I cannot live as I have lived, Thomas. Get me Jane. Deliver me from this bitterness and gall. (Pause.)
THOMAS. An annulment, Majesty?
KING HENRY. Yes… An annulment.
THOMAS. I shall consult the canon lawyers. I shall speak to Archbishop Cranmer. What reasons shall we cite?
KING HENRY. If the pre-contract with Harry Percy won’t run… you know that I was… before I was with the Queen, I was, on occasion, with her sister Mary, who gave me a…
THOMAS. Yes, Majesty – I remember Mary Boleyn.
KING HENRY. Do what you have to do. I will back you. But be very secret. I don’t want…
Exit KING HENRY.
THOMAS. You don’t want history to make a liar of you. Before your Council you had me state you never had to do with Mary Boleyn, while you sat there and nodded. You removed all impediments – Mary Boleyn, Harry Percy – just swept them aside.
EDWARD approaches.
Now times have changed – our requirements have changed – and the facts must change behind us. Get Jane, your sister, out of here, Edward – down to the country for a while. We’re going to try for an annulment. I don’t know yet on what grounds.
EDWARD. We’ll be placing ourselves in great danger. If the Boleyns go down, they’ll fight – they may take us with them. The Queen must not suspect –
THOMAS. Well, we can’t keep it from her for ever – can we? If there’s going to be a fight I’ll not run from it.
EDWARD. What if you lose?
THOMAS. Oh, it wouldn’t be so bad. They’ll only cut off my head.
EDWARD. If you’re lucky.
THOMAS. There’s something I must do, Edward. Come with me.
Scene Eighteen
Country scene – birdsong.
CHRISTOPHE. So where are we? I’ve never been here.
THOMAS. Drink in all that wonderful country air, Christophe! This is Stoke Newington. We’re going to visit Harry Percy. If I can persuade him to consider his best interests, the King’s difficulties will be over.
THOMAS and RAFE – who is now very much a gentleman – go in to HARRY PERCY, who is ill.
My Lord, you’re looking very sick. I hope it’s not because I’ve come to visit you?
HARRY PERCY. No, Cromwell – it’s my liver.
THOMAS. I stand before you a poor suitor. You’d never guess my errand.
HARRY PERCY. Oh, I believe I would.
THOMAS. I put it to you, My Lord – you are married to Anne Boleyn.
HARRY PERCY. I’m not.
THOMAS. I put it to you that in or about the year 1523, you made a secret contract of marriage with her, and therefore her so-called marriage with the King is null.
HARRY PERCY. Cromwell, you dragged me before the Council and made me swear on the Bible I’d had no contract with Anne. You saw me – you heard me. How can I take it back?
THOMAS. On that occasion you’d been drinking heavily – I put it to you that your memory failed you.
HARRY PERCY. I did marry Anne but had forgotten it?
THOMAS. You were always a drinker, My Lord – drink has reduced you to your present condition. When you swore your oath –
HARRY PERCY. Before the Council – to the King and the Archbishop of Canterbury –
THOMAS. Yes, on that occasion you were confused – still drunk.
HARRY PERCY. Never more sober.
THOMAS. You weren’t paying attention to the questions put to you.
HARRY PERCY. Never more attentive.
THOMAS. Archbishop Warham was old and infirm – perhaps there was some defect in the form of the oath he administered.
HARRY PERCY. He was old – he was infirm – but he was competent.
THOMAS. But if there were some defect in the procedure…
RAFE. How do you know, for example, that the book was, in fact, a Bible?
HARRY PERCY. It looked like a Bible.
THOMAS. I’ve a book on accountancy that looks like a Bible. It’s often mistaken for one.
HARRY PERCY. Especially by you. I swore on the Bible – then the King made me swear again on the Sacred Host – the very body of Christ. I’ll not take back such an oath.
RAFE. Don’t you want to help Anne?
HARRY PERCY. How can it help her?
EDWARD. If she’s married to you, she was never married to Henry. That makes her daughter Elizabeth a bastard. And it clears the way to the throne for the children of the King’s new marriage.
THOMAS. If Henry’s sure Anne can lawfully be set aside, he’ll
treat her kindly. Convents can be comfortable…
HARRY PERCY. No.
THOMAS. You won’t help her?
HARRY PERCY. I can’t. On peril of my soul, I can’t perjure myself. Not again… What’s Anne Boleyn to me? She is a stranger now. Wolsey was right. Love has run its course.
THOMAS. You’re heartless.
HARRY PERCY. I’m dying.
THOMAS. Listen. If the King were to offer –
HARRY PERCY. What? Rewards, honours, favours? Can he add years to my life? Too late, Cromwell. See yourself out.
THOMAS and RAFE leave.
RAFE. Well… We’ll just have to find some other way.
THOMAS. I think we must let the Boleyns direct this. Open a space for them.
RAFE. And you think they’ll ruin themselves?
THOMAS. If I can just set the mill wheels turning –
RAFE. They might fall into the machinery?
CHRISTOPHE. Let’s hope so.
RAFE. I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous. Suppose you start the process and the King changes his mind? Suppose Anne gets pregnant again? Suppose she gets him back – she always has in the past – it’s as if…
THOMAS. She bewitches him?
CHRISTOPHE. Told you!
EDWARD. Henry would destroy you.
THOMAS. No – I’d go find myself some German Lutheran Princeling to play with.
RAFE (taken aback). You don’t speak German.
THOMAS. I know, but give me a week.
RAFE. You’d never get out of England – they’d block the ports.
THOMAS. I’ll fly then. Look – the Cardinal’s magic ring.
RAFE. This is no time for light answers, sir. You’re risking everything – your life –
THOMAS. Not for the first time. Make or mar all. You could get Gregory out, couldn’t you?
RAFE. Yes, sir.
THOMAS. And yourself too? That leaves Tom Wyatt.
RAFE. Oh, for the love of God, sir, don’t fail – I beg you!
ACT FOUR
Scene Nineteen
They go into THOMAS’s office. Bustle. GEORGE is shouting, off.
CHRISTOPHE. Brother Georges is here – and your Lady Worcester’s waiting. Ho, ho!
THOMAS. George can wait. I shall want his father too – but Lady Worcester first.
CHRISTOPHE. Ho, ho!
CHRISTOPHE goes and fetches her in. She is just visibly pregnant.
THOMAS. I should have come to you, Beth. I didn’t think. Christophe – a cushion for Lady Worcester. And bring cakes.
LADY WORCESTER. Yes, lots of cakes. I am feeling particularly greedy today.
CHRISTOPHE brings a plate of almond creams.
Is that boy a waiter?
THOMAS. He makes himself useful to me in all sorts of ways.
LADY WORCESTER. I shouldn’t have come. The Earl’s very jealous. He suspects this little creature – (Her belly.) is not his own.
THOMAS. But it is? Isn’t it?
LADY WORCESTER. Ah well… (Smiles and shrugs.)
THOMAS. Are there other possibilities?
LADY WORCESTER. Apart from?
THOMAS. Apart from… your husband?
LADY WORCESTER. I should think so. Wouldn’t you? There must be compensations for forever having to play the wife.
THOMAS. Does the Queen share your opinion?
LADY WORCESTER. Yes, well, it did look bad for her, didn’t it – the night of the fire?
THOMAS. Gallant Harry Norris – on hand to extinguish the flames.
LADY WORCESTER (stares). Is that what you’ve heard? No. Young Mark Smeaton smothered the fire. With her pillow.
THOMAS (wrong-footed). But… What would Mark be doing there?
LADY WORCESTER. Fingering his lute?
THOMAS. He’s looking very pretty in his silk damask and gold fringe.
LADY WORCESTER. And Francis Weston looks like the Cornhill Maypole.
THOMAS. Where does the money come from?
LADY WORCESTER. Oh, Anne’s boys must have their presents – for all the little services they perform – the Queen is very generous. Is this almond cream? Busy all day and all night too – they are so ambitious – nakedly so. Why speak of ‘idle youth’? They must have jewels for their caps, gilt buttons for their sleeves, fees for their tailors – I know – I have debts myself because of those… boys.
Pause.
THOMAS. I’ll settle them.
LADY WORCESTER. A hundred pounds and my husband must never know.
CHRISTOPHE. Jesus!
THOMAS. Out, Christophe.
He goes.
The Cardinal used to say, ‘Your instincts will always warn you when something is happening behind closed doors. Make it your business to find out what it is.’
LADY WORCESTER. The Queen’s doors are often closed.
THOMAS. And who is behind them? Norris? Weston?
LADY WORCESTER. William Brereton?
THOMAS. But not Mark – never Mark? What would she want with such a… such a…
LADY WORCESTER. We all know the King is tired of her. He wants… another. If a closed door would give him what he wants… Well, I could go so far. But I don’t want her harmed – none of us wants her harmed.
THOMAS. What do you think should happen to her?
LADY WORCESTER. A convent. The whole thing was a mistake – she’s really married to Harry Percy, isn’t she? So she can be quietly put away – shut up with her Bible and a gaggle of sour old nuns. Then Henry can get himself a real queen with royal blood in her veins and everybody will be happy. Now I must go – the Earl’s spies are everywhere. When will you send me the money?
THOMAS. Today. Now. The Bank of Cromwell offers the best rates for useful information. Christophe!
He comes in.
Tell Rafe I need a hundred in gold.
LADY WORCESTER. A hundred for the moment. I like your cakes. (Sweeps out, taking a handful.)
CHRISTOPHE. A hundred! Jesus! What’s that by the hour, master?
THOMAS. Christophe – take the plate.
CHRISTOPHE. Look at that! She’s licked out the cream and left the crumb.
THOMAS. George now. And his father, when he comes.
RAFE shows in GEORGE.
GEORGE. You keep me – a lord – waiting? Cromwell, though you are of the King’s Council, you are no gentleman born. His Majesty is pleased to bring you often into his presence, but never forget who placed you where he could see you.
THOMAS. I shall remember – and profit by your advice.
GEORGE. See you do.
RAFE brings in BOLEYN.
THOMAS. Ah – the Earl, your father.
BOLEYN. Cromwell.
THOMAS. Matters have come to the King’s attention that, had he known them, would have prevented his marriage with your daughter.
GEORGE. What ‘matters’? There are no ‘matters’. Harry Percy stands by his oath.
THOMAS. Then what am I to do? Perhaps, George, you can help me – and the King – with some suggestion of your own?
GEORGE. We’ll help you to the Tower.
THOMAS. Minute that, Rafe. My Lord, in the matter of your daughter and Harry Percy, the late Cardinal warned you there could be no match between them because of the high estate of the Percy line and the lowness of your family. You answered you were not responsible for what Anne did – you could not control your own children.
BOLEYN. Ah –
THOMAS. You asserted your daughter and Harry Percy had gone far in the matter. You implied their liaison was consummated and by pre-contract a true marriage.
BOLEYN (smirks). But then the King made known his feelings for my daughter –
THOMAS. So you rethought your position. As one does. Rethink it once more. It would be better for Anne if she had married Harry Percy. Then her marriage to the King could be proclaimed null. And His Majesty is free to marry another lady.
BOLEYN. Ah, well… So what happens to Anne?
THOMAS. Convent?
>
BOLEYN. I’ll want a generous settlement. For the family.
GEORGE. Wait! My Lord – Father!
BOLEYN. George, things are as they are. Calmly! She’ll be left in possession of her estates?
THOMAS. The King would prefer it if she withdrew from the world… Some godly house – well-governed – where her beliefs and faith will be a comfort to her.
GEORGE. You disgust me! Both of you!
THOMAS. Rafe, minute Lord Rochford’s disgust.
BOLEYN. And our Offices of State? I’ll continue as Lord Privy Seal – surely? And my son here –
GEORGE. Cromwell wants us out! That’s what’s behind this –
RAFE. Oh, do sit down, George! (Laughs.) Or, of course, My Lord – stand if you please.
GEORGE. Blacksmith’s boy! Force my sister out and your new friends will make short work of you. And if you fail – if she and the King are reconciled – I’ll make short work of you. Whichever way you turn, Cromwell, you’re a dead man.
BOLEYN. I’ll talk to her. I’ll talk to Anne. I marvel, George, that you cannot see which way this is tending.
GEORGE. What? What!
BOLEYN. Come. Shh – shh. (Ushers GEORGE out, turns and bows.) Master Secretary. Master Sadler.
RAFE. Which way is it tending?
THOMAS. Ah! (Collects his papers.)
RAFE. I remember – when the Cardinal came down – a masque at Court. I remember Mark Smeaton dressed in Wolsey’s scarlet robes… And how four devils bore him off to Hell – four masked devils. Two at each foot – two at each –
THOMAS. George was the right forepaw.
RAFE. You’ve never forgotten.
THOMAS. The whole Court laughing, hissing and jeering as the Cardinal was dragged and bounced across the floor. Except for one voice that called out ‘Shame on you! Shame on you…’
RAFE. It was Thomas Wyatt.
THOMAS. It was… I must go to the King.
They go to KING HENRY’s chamber – KING HENRY is playing the lute.
Scene Twenty
KING HENRY (singing).
The daisy delectable…
I am not variable –