Wolf Hall & Bring Up the Bodies - the RSC Stage Adaptation

by Mike Poulton

  THOMAS. Madam, your household is to be dissolved.

  ANNE. Send for Archbishop Cranmer. I will go with him.

  NORFOLK. Go with Cranmer, will you? (Chuckles.) By God, I’ll drag you to the boat with your arse in the air.

  RAFE. My Lord!

  THOMAS. Madam, be assured – you will be handled as befits your status. Come.

  ANNE. Cremuel, you have never forgiven me for Wolsey.

  They take her to the boat.

  THOMAS. To be turned out of your house and put upon the river – your whole life receding with every stroke of the oars… Now she knows what it’s like.

  SUFFOLK. So she spoke the truth – you’ve never forgiven her for Wolsey.

  They all get aboard.

  ANNE. Where is the Archbishop? Cranmer will defend me – where are my bishops? They owe their promotion to me. Cranmer will swear I’m a good woman.

  NORFOLK. Your churchmen will spit on you.

  ANNE. I am the Queen – if you do me harm a curse will come on you. No rain will fall till I am released.

  SUFFOLK. Witchcraft, is it? Madam, it is such foolish talk of curses and spells that brought you here.

  ANNE. Oh? You said I was a false wife? Am I a sorcerer now?

  SUFFOLK. None of us raised the subject of curses.

  ANNE. I will swear on oath I am true. The King will listen. You can bring no witnesses. You do not even know how to charge me.

  NORFOLK. Yes – it would save trouble if we ducked and drowned you here.

  They arrive at the Tower. KINGSTON is waiting with others. KINGSTON helps ANNE out of the barge.

  ANNE. Is Harry Norris here? Has he cleared my name?

  KINGSTON. I fear not, madam. Nor his own.

  ANNE (laughs). Are you going to put me in your dungeon, Master Kingston?

  KINGSTON. No, madam. You shall have the chamber where you lay before your coronation.

  ANNE (collapses). Jesus have mercy, it is too good for me.

  THOMAS lifts her – hands her to KINGSTON. She is taken away.

  RAFE. What did she mean by it? ‘Too good for me’?

  THOMAS. She’s failed. One thing she set out to do – to get Henry and keep him. She’s lost him to Jane Seymour – and, believe me, no court will judge her more harshly than she’ll judge herself. Henry made her Queen. If he turns his back, what is she? An imposter. Worthless. Her rooms are empty. Jane will wear her clothes. She’s dead to herself now. All we have to do is bury her.

  Scene Twenty-Five

  KING HENRY, kneeling with RICHMOND (sixteen) in his chapel, finishes praying.

  KING HENRY. We must look into a glass of truth. I am to blame… what I suspected I would not admit – not even to myself.

  CRANMER (wriggling). There’s no blame. But… Surely the accusation should not come before the evidence?

  KING HENRY. My boy – Richmond. She would have poisoned him. So much falls into place. So many friends and good servants lost, alienated, exiled from Court… Poor Wolsey! She practised against him with every weapon of her slyness, and malice. Why am I so crossed? St Augustine calls marriage ‘a mortal and slavish garment’ –

  CRANMER. St Chrysostom.

  KING HENRY. Kings must have sons.

  RICHMOND gets up.

  Yet we sin even in the very act of generation. How may a man do his duty both to his realm and to God? Some authorities say that to love a woman immoderately – even if she’s your wife – is a kind of adultery.

  THOMAS. St Jerome.

  KING HENRY. I can’t see now why I ever wanted her. She used charms and enchantments on me. She was always unnatural. She’d presume to censure my conduct – press advice on me in matters far beyond her understanding – and give me words no man would willingly hear from his wife.

  THOMAS. She was bold – true –

  CRANMER. But she knew it for a fault and would try to bridle herself.

  KING HENRY. I believe she has committed adultery with a hundred men… But her brother! Cranmer, is it possible? The appetites of women are unbounded but… ? Why not? Drink the filthy cup to its dregs! And while she was indulging in her own desires she was killing mine. When I would approach her – only to do my duty – she’d give me such a look as would daunt any man.

  Enter GREGORY.

  (Embracing RICHMOND.) My boy, my boy – she would have poisoned you.

  GREGORY. But why, Majesty? What would be the point? The bas… The Duke could never reign.

  KING HENRY. That wouldn’t have saved him, Gregory. Thank God, that by the cunning of your father, the plot was found out. She’d have poisoned my daughter Mary too – and made that little blotch she spawned England’s Queen. But she was so wicked God abandoned her. Pray – pray for me – pray God does not abandon me. I have sinned – I must have. The marriage was illicit.

  GREGORY. What? This one? This one as well?

  KING HENRY. Both, Gregory! Both! Illicit and accursed! Why did I let her near me? Why did I ever look at her – when there are so many women in the world – fresh, young, and virtuous? I’m too tired to confess tonight, Archbishop. Go home now – come again in the morning and absolve me. Come, my boy.

  RICHMOND. She would have poisoned me.

  Exeunt KING HENRY and RICHMOND.

  THOMAS. ‘Pastime with Good Company’, eh, Archbishop?

  CRANMER. This matter of sorcery ‘charms and enchantments’ – the King does not mean to pursue it seriously? He was speaking figuratively – as a poet might speak of a lady’s bewitchments? Surely?

  THOMAS raises his eyebrows.

  Do not look at me in that way, Thomas.

  THOMAS. My Lord, goodnight.

  CRANMER. Bless you – bless you.

  ACT FIVE

  Scene Twenty-Six

  The Tower.

  THOMAS. Christmas last, Sir Henry, you impersonated a Moor, and Sir William Brereton showed himself half-naked in the guise of a wild man of the woods, in the Queen’s chamber.

  NORRIS. Oh, for God’s sake! You’re asking me – in all seriousness – what we did when costumed for a masque?

  THOMAS. I counselled Brereton against exposing his person. Your retort was that the Queen had seen it many a time.

  NORRIS. You know what I meant! She’s a married woman – a man’s… gear is no strange sight to her.

  THOMAS. You know what you meant. I know only what you said. Do you think such a remark would strike the King’s ear as innocent? And Francis Weston? You told me he too was going to the Queen.

  NORRIS. Well, Weston wasn’t naked. He was in a dragon suit.

  THOMAS. He was not naked when we saw him. But you spoke of the Queen’s great attraction to him. You were jealous, Harry – you didn’t deny it –

  NORRIS. Jealousy is no proof of adultery, Cromwell.

  THOMAS. Where there is neither proof, nor witnesses to the act, we consider circumstances, opportunities, and expressed desires. We consider weighty probabilities. We consider confessions.

  NORRIS. You’ll get no confession from me. You can’t put a gentleman to the torture.

  THOMAS. I could put my thumbs in your eyes, here and now, and you’d sing ‘Green Grows the Holly’ if I asked you to. People will say I tortured you anyway. They’re already putting the word about that I tortured Mark – though not a gossamer thread of him is snapped. I have Mark’s free confession. He has given names – some of them surprised me –

  NORRIS. Lies! You’d trick us into betraying each other –

  THOMAS. Why would I need to? The King knows what to think. He knows your treason and the Queen’s.

  NORRIS. Why should I forget my honour and betray a King who is everything to me, and place in danger the lady I revere? I’ve been at Henry’s side since I was a boy. He loves me like a brother.

  THOMAS. Ah, for God’s sake, Norris – do I have to chalk it on the wall for you? He’s out of love with Anne, she can’t give him a son, and he wants rid. He loves another lady. Don’t you recognise the situation? My ol
d master, Wolsey, could not gratify the King so he was disgraced and hounded to his death. So I mean to gratify the King in anything he demands.

  NORRIS. I suppose the Seymours have their wedding garments ready?

  THOMAS. On his wedding day the King will be happy again, I will be happy, and all England will be happy… except Harry Norris – he’ll be dead.

  NORRIS. I am innocent. You know it – he knows it. Answer me one thing. Why not Wyatt? Everyone suspects him with Anne –

  THOMAS. Do you suspect Anne with Wyatt?

  NORRIS. Everybody does.

  THOMAS. If he meddled with her when she was a maid – if she ever was – it was shameful but no treason. Not the same as meddling with the King’s wife – the Queen of England. Or making a pact to have her after the King’s death –

  NORRIS. You cannot make my thoughts a crime.

  THOMAS. But I can, you see. If your thoughts amount to intentions, and your intentions amount to treason… Francis Weston believes you’re guilty.

  NORRIS. Weston’s a boy. It’s well known he’s no friend of mine –

  THOMAS. Ah! Rivals in love? And what of her brother George?

  NORRIS. I’ve no opinion on George Boleyn.

  THOMAS. No opinion on incest?

  NORRIS. I’ll not be drawn – I know your methods. I’ve studied you twenty years – and your master, Wolsey, before you.

  THOMAS. Wolsey was a great servant of the State.

  NORRIS. He was a great traitor.

  THOMAS. Take your mind back. Forget the manifold favours you received at the Cardinal’s hands. I ask you only to remember an entertainment – an interlude at Court – in which the late Cardinal was set upon by demons and carried down to Hell.

  NORRIS (gapes). And… is that why? It was a play! Wolsey was dead – how could it hurt him! And while he was alive – was I not good to him in his trouble? Did I not ride after him with a token from the King’s own hand?

  THOMAS. And he knelt in the mud to you. You all behaved like savages – wolves falling on his estates and possessions. Life pays you out, Norris, don’t you find? (Comes out of the room. To himself.) Henry Norris – Chief Bottom Wiper to the King. Left forepaw.

  He goes into BRERETON’s cell.

  William Brereton of Cheshire. A violent man from a violent line. Back in the Cardinal’s time, a servant of yours killed a man during a bowls match –

  BRERETON. What? What’s all this –

  THOMAS. You impeded the Cardinal’s enquiries into the case. You think you can do anything because you have friends at Court who protect you.

  BRERETON. The King himself protects me.

  THOMAS. Then how do you find yourself locked up in the Tower? Do you recall one John ap Eyton – a gentleman of Flintshire.

  BRERETON. Hardly. A person of no consequence. Is that all this is about? The best you can do? It’s clear you have not one shred of evidence.

  THOMAS. There’s the matter of your adultery with the Queen – going naked into her chamber – but concentrate first on Eyton. There’s a quarrel, one of your household ends up dead. Eyton is tried for murder and acquitted. But having no respect for law and justice, you abduct him, and your servants hang him.

  BRERETON. It’s how we do things in Cheshire.

  THOMAS. You think this is only one man, and he doesn’t matter. He does matter. No one remembers him? I remember him. You believe the law should be what you would like it to be, so you bring the King’s justice, and the King’s name into contempt. You once said, ‘In my own country my family upholds the law, and the law is only what we care to uphold.’

  BRERETON. I said it and I stand by it. You’ve no case against me – admit it. Why don’t you unlock the door and let me walk free?

  THOMAS remains a blank.

  So… Cromwell – judge, jury, and hangman? Is that it?

  THOMAS. It’s better justice than Eyton had.

  BRERETON. Then make sure you do hang me, Cromwell, because if you fail we shall surely hang you.

  THOMAS. Do you think Weston has had the Queen?

  BRERETON. Why not? He’s young, foolish, and good-looking, isn’t he? She may be Queen but she’s only a woman.

  THOMAS. Women are more foolish than men?

  BRERETON. Surely! In matters of love – yes, in general – and weaker. What about Wyatt, Cromwell? Where’s Wyatt in this?

  THOMAS. You are, I think, in no place to put questions to me, sir. (Leaves the cell.) William Brereton. Left hindpaw.

  He goes into GEORGE’s cell.

  The Martin Tower, George? How do you like your lodgings? Join me at the table?

  He will not.

  GEORGE. I suppose I’m accused of concealing my sister’s misconduct?

  THOMAS. No.

  GEORGE. The charge won’t stand. There’s been no misconduct.

  THOMAS. That’s not the charge… It’s been explained to me how a man may hardly know his sister when she’s a child. When he meets her as a grown woman he finds she’s like himself. Yet not. One day his brotherly embrace is a little longer than usual. Neither party feels they are doing wrong… until a frontier is crossed. Did it begin before her marriage or after?

  GEORGE (astonished). You call yourself a Christian and you ask… I refuse to answer – such –

  THOMAS. I am accustomed to dealing with those who refuse to answer.

  GEORGE. Henry killed his father’s Councillors – he struck off the head of Thomas More – one of Europe’s greatest scholars – he harried the Cardinal to his death – and now he’s scheming to kill his wife. What makes you think it will be any different with you when your time comes?

  THOMAS. It ill becomes a Boleyn to evoke the Cardinal’s name. Or Thomas More’s for that matter. Your sister burned for vengeance – she would say to me ‘What! Thomas More? Is he not dead yet?’

  GEORGE. Who began this slander against me? (Pause.) It’s my wife, isn’t it? Can you really believe something so monstrous? On the word of one woman?

  THOMAS. Think what reason you’ve given that woman to say such a word.

  GEORGE (he is frightened). I’ll speak to my confessor.

  THOMAS. I’m your confessor now, George. What would absolve you – what might preserve your life – is a full statement – everything you know about your sister’s dealings with other men.

  GEORGE. You ask me for evidence that will kill my sister?

  THOMAS. Then you do have such evidence? Evidence that will kill her? (Opens his hands.) Look. I’ve nothing to offer you. The King might let you slip abroad. Or he might grant you mercy as to the manner of your death. Or not. A traitor’s death is a terrible thing, you know, George – shocking… And so public. Stripped naked – your privy member sliced off – your stomach slit opened – your false heart torn from your breast… Such pain – such humiliation! Oh… I see you have witnessed it. Did you say, in the hearing of others, that the King was impotent? That he could not get a child on your sister?

  GEORGE slumps at the table, clutching his stomach.

  In saying so you call in question the parentage of the Princess. Elizabeth is England’s heir… You must see – you’ve spoken treason?

  GEORGE. What I said…

  THOMAS. The King believes the true reason he could not get a son upon your sister is because the marriage was unlawful and unclean –

  GEORGE. Christ! God grants sons to every beggar – he grants them to the illicit union as well as the blessed – to whores and to queens! Can the King be so simple?

  THOMAS. His is a holy simplicity. He’s an anointed king – and very close to God.

  GEORGE studies THOMAS’s face for signs of levity – the face is a blank. He’s puzzled. Then resigned.

  GEORGE. God…

  THOMAS comes out of the cell.

  THOMAS. George Boleyn –

  WOLSEY’S GHOST. Right forepaw?

  THOMAS goes into WESTON’s cell.

  WESTON. I taunted you, sir. I belittled you. I’m sorry now I ever d
id so. You are the King’s servant – it was proper for me to respect that.

  THOMAS. A handsome apology, Francis.

  WESTON. You know I am not long married.

  THOMAS. But you left your wife at home in the country. Now we know for whom you left her.

  WESTON. I have a son… Not yet a year old. (A silence.) I wish my soul to be prayed for after I’m dead. (Silence.) I am in debt, Master Secretary – I owe a thousand pounds.

  THOMAS. Nobody expects a young gentleman to be thrifty. (Kindly.) We know the Queen gave you money.

  WESTON. I’ve been a fool, and you have stood by and watched it all. I cannot fault your conduct – for I would have injured you if I could… I know I have not lived… I have not lived… a good life. I thought I’d have another twenty years – and then – when I was old, I’d give to hospitals and endow a chantry. God would see I was sorry.

  THOMAS. Well, Francis, we know not the hour, do we?

  WESTON. But, Master Secretary, whatever wrong I have done, I am not guilty in this matter of the Queen. I see by your face you know it. And all the people will know it too when I am brought out to die. And the King will know it, and think about it in his private hours. I shall be remembered as the innocent are remembered.

  THOMAS. Fortune is fickle – every young adventurer knows that. Resign yourself. Look at Norris – he shows no bitterness.

  WESTON. Norris deserves his death. I do not.

  THOMAS. You think him well paid-out for meddling with the Queen?

  WESTON. He’s never out of her company… They are not discussing the Gospel, Master Secretary, are they? I know… I can tell you that she –

  WESTON is on the verge of the confession THOMAS needs.

  THOMAS. Francis… Excuse me.

  THOMAS falters – comes out of the room.

  RAFE. He’s confessed?

  THOMAS. He says he’s innocent. I no longer know what that means. He believes Norris is guilty. I don’t know what he means by guilt. Weston is a child. Everything good in life was brought to him on a silver plate when he was christened. He’s never striven – never suffered – he can’t anticipate pain because he’s never felt it. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. The lambs have begun to slaughter themselves. I don’t need to stand by and watch it.