ANNE. He’ll never accept me – not as Henry’s wife nor as his Queen. That’s the truth of it.
THOMAS. We’ll never know.
ANNE. I tell the King my husband I’d find out what’s in Thomas More’s head even if I had to take it off to do so.
JANE ROCHFORD arrives. STEPHEN returns with the seal. He gives it to MORE who puts it in KING HENRY’s hands and exits. KING HENRY speaks to MORE earnestly and regretfully. MORE remains, kneeling, listening and shaking his head.
At last! We are rid of him. (Laughs.)
JANE ROCHFORD. You’ll never be rid of Thomas More, madam. He’ll always stand against you. They may put a crown on your head but Katherine will always be his Queen – he may claim to be your husband’s loyal subject, but he’s the Pope’s man first. And when he speaks or writes, all Europe listens. That’s why the Princes of Europe are so cold to you.
ANNE. When this Prince is out of me, the people of England will love me!
JANE ROCHFORD. No, they won’t. They’ll never love you – no more will they love Cromwell here. They love Queen Katherine – because she’s a fit wife for England’s King. While you are… Well, what are you?
ANNE flies to KING HENRY – urgent conversation – she leads him off. JANE ROCHFORD smiles at THOMAS and hurries after them. MORE is alone – still kneeling and bewildered. THOMAS bounces him back to his feet. MORE starts to brush himself down. Feels for the missing chain.
THOMAS. What will you do?
MORE. Write. Pray.
THOMAS. Write just a little, perhaps, and pray a lot.
MORE (gently). Is that a threat?
THOMAS. Are you coming to the Queen’s coronation?
MORE. No I’m not.
THOMAS. Yes you are. I have arranged everything. The last detail is for you to you approve what’s been done. Or at least to demonstrate – publicly – that you don’t disapprove.
MORE. As things are, I can’t afford a new coat.
THOMAS (produces a purse). Your friends had a collection.
MORE (turns it over suspiciously). This is from you?
THOMAS. You think you have no friends?
MORE. I don’t know, Thomas. I have to walk my own path.
THOMAS. Turn up, bow, smile and the thing is done. They’re married. She will be Queen. She’s carrying his heir. Accept it.
MORE. Now that is a threat.
THOMAS. It’s a warning – friend to friend.
MORE (rattled). Who are you, Cromwell?
THOMAS (expressionless). Blacksmith’s boy.
MORE. You would sell yourself to the Turk if the price were right.
CHAPUYS (entering). Sir Thomas, may we speak?
MORE (polite but weary). No, Ambassador Chapuys – I’ve nothing to say.
CHAPUYS. Your King does not know how to value a loyal servant. But I am charged to say the Emperor, my master, admires the stand you are taking.
MORE. Ambassador Chapuys, I assure you, I have taken no stand.
CHAPUYS. You have resigned.
MORE. For reasons of health. Chest pains.
CHAPUYS. I told His Imperial Majesty that you’ve resigned in protest against the shameful treatment of Queen Katherine – and against your King living openly and adulterously with a concubine –
MORE. No – no! (Rubbing his chest.) Here – you see. Around the heart.
CHAPUYS. But Anne will never be crowned? Henry would not go so far? England will never accept one so low? Royal blood must have royal blood –
THOMAS. You’ll get nothing out of him, Ambassador. Sir Thomas will explain anything to you – the workings of English law – the subtlest shade of meaning in the Gospels – the progress of the soul – anything. But he will never explain himself.
CHAPUYS (civil). And may I enquire, Master Cromwell, are you to succeed him as Lord Chancellor.
MORE. God!
THOMAS. Not I, sir.
CHAPUYS. Then shall it be Bishop Stephen?
THOMAS. No. (Smiles.)
MORE (sniggering). Cromwell will keep Gardiner out.
CHAPUYS. But Gardiner is the King’s right hand?
MORE. And Cromwell his left – but they hate each other. So we shall have some fool Jack-in-Office as Chancellor while the two of them scrap like terriers, and England’s affairs are shredded between them.
CHAPUYS. But… I don’t understand.
THOMAS. Come home with me to supper – I’ll talk you through it. We are neighbours in the city, you know.
CHAPUYS. Are we? (Getting it.) Yes, of course we are! (Leading THOMAS off.) Please reassure me – your King will never crown his concubine. A commoner can never be Queen… Now, my master, you know, is a most generous prince…
Music. As ANNE’s coronation – the most magnificent, climactic scene – begins, MORE hurries away from the sound and sight of it. Blend into next scene.
Scene Twenty-Six
June 1533. Huge music – Court in coronation robes. ANNE enters through clouds of incense with LADIES – two BISHOPS lift up the hem of her robe – she prostrates herself before the altar, helped by LADIES – not easy as she’s so pregnant. ANNE is anointed, CRANMER presses the ivory sceptre into her hand and crowns her.
NORFOLK. Didn’t I tell you? Say what you will about my niece, she always gets what she wants. Even the heavens lend their blessings – look how the sun shines on her.
A dance celebrating childbirth. Gifts for a male child displayed in the dance. Armour, weapons, ships, boys’ toys. Everybody possible joins in. ANNE and KING HENRY, triumphant, watch.
An elaborate cradle crosses the stage. Everybody adores it as if it were the Blessed Virgin Mary’s statue in the sack of York Place. ANNE’s LADIES draw ANNE away. A clap of thunder. Darkness. All run for cover. A joyful peal of bells which falters and peters out into silence.
Jesu! After all this – a girl! A useless, mewling, ginger puke-pot of a girl!
KING HENRY arrives. CRANMER takes him aside. KING HENRY takes the blow perfectly.
KING HENRY. Healthy? Then I thank God for his favour to us. (Going.) Call her Elizabeth. Cancel the jousts.
NORFOLK. One thing was required of her – one simple thing and she fails us. A girl!
KING HENRY (almost off). Archbishop Cranmer. Cromwell – nobody else.
They go apart with KING HENRY.
(Perplexed – baffled.) A girl – another girl? After all Anne’s promises… She promised me – she promised!
THOMAS. One day we’ll make a great marriage for her. Your Majesty is young enough. The Queen is strong – her family fertile. You’ll get another child soon.
CRANMER. Perhaps God intends some peculiar blessing by this princess.
KING HENRY (considers). Dear friend, I am sure you are right.
CRANMER. Next time it will be a boy.
KING HENRY goes off, pursued by SUFFOLK and others.
KING HENRY. Next time – next time I shall have a son. God knows we are both young enough. Assure yourselves – believe me – God intends some peculiar blessing by this princess.
Scene Twenty-Seven
The Court assembles. Foreign AMBASSADORS if possible. ANNE’s LADIES bring on Princess Elizabeth, strip her naked, and lay her in a crib. Enter ANNE – all do reverence to her.
JANE ROCHFORD. The Queen wishes to show Princess Elizabeth to the world. Rumours are running all over Europe she was born with teeth – that she has six fingers on each hand – and that she is furred all over and has a tail – like a monkey.
GREGORY. That’s horrible! But she wasn’t, was she? Born with teeth?
MARY BOLEYN. No, Gregory. She hasn’t got fur either.
JANE ROCHFORD. She has ginger bristles. You could exhibit her at the fair as a pig baby.
MARY BOLEYN (cooing over the crib). Don’t you think she looks like the King, Gregory?
GREGORY. She could be anybody’s.
THOMAS (raising his hand to hide a smile). My son means that all babies look alike.
WYATT
. For God’s sake, Gregory! People have gone to the Tower for saying less.
GEORGE. She is all Boleyn.
JANE ROCHFORD. All Boleyn? How could that be possible? Think before you speak, husband.
Enter ANNE and KING HENRY with AMBASSADORS – a group of French, Venetian, German – and COURTIERS, as many as possible. ANNE’s women and THOMAS’s group drop back. The foreigners file past the baby, bowing to ANNE and KING HENRY. ANNE is menacing in the scene but never angry, nor raises her voice. She has a delicious secret.
FRENCH AMBASSADOR (presents a tacky gift). Good baby, good baby… She is very…
GREGORY (to RAFE). She has no tail. He looks disappointed.
ANNE (sweetly). Ambassador, say to King Francois, My dearest wish is that one day she shall marry a Prince of France.
FRENCH AMBASSADOR. Majesty. (Bows to her. As he turns we see his grimace.)
ANNE. Wait, monsieur! Cremuel – tell the French Ambassador of the bill you are bringing into Parliament.
THOMAS looks at KING HENRY.
KING HENRY. Yes – explain the succession to him.
Elizabeth cries.
LADIES whisk the crying child away.
Tell him, Cremuel.
THOMAS. I –
ANNE. I wish it made clear to your master, and to all Europe, that a bill is going through Parliament which settles the succession of England on my children. Mine. Not Katherine’s. When a son is born to me he shall succeed to the thone of England. And my daughters are and shall be royal princesses. Cremuel’s bill declares that Katherine’s child Mary is a bastard –
KING HENRY. No it doesn’t. Well… not exactly –
ANNE. What? She is not? How is she not? Katherine was never your wife –
KING HENRY. That is true –
ANNE. She was never your wife so the child you got on her is a bastard – is that not so, Cremuel?
THOMAS. I –
ANNE. It says in Cremuel’s bill that Mary is a bastard. Is that not so?
THOMAS. My bill puts Mary out of the line of succession. It’s enough –
ANNE. It is not enough –
THOMAS. It’s just as good as –
ANNE. It is no good to me. I want her made a bastard. Your bill will make her a bastard.
KING HENRY. Madam, we don’t want to provoke…
THOMAS. We don’t want to provoke, without good cause, her cousin the Emperor.
ANNE. You don’t want to provoke him? No? Then I shall provoke him for you. I shall tell you, Ambassador, what will happen to Mary. The Princess Elizabeth is to have her own household and the bastard Mary will join it as her servant. She will go on her knees to my daughter. And if she won’t bend her knee then she shall be beaten and buffeted until she does bend. She will call my daughter Princess, or I shall make her suffer.
KING HENRY. Sweetheart, there’s no need for this. Of course everybody will call her Princess. Cromwell means to seal the act with an oath. All my subjects will swear to uphold the rights of Elizabeth – and any other children we are blessed with.
STEPHEN. All your subjects? All of them?
THOMAS. The people of England will stand behind their King. They’ll declare their loyalty to him and to his heirs.
STEPHEN (amused). What – you’ll trudge up and down the muddy lanes of England swearing shepherd lads and ploughboys?
THOMAS. A ploughboy’s oath is as sacred as any bishop’s. Bishop.
STEPHEN. Or any blacksmith’s boy’s, or Putney drab’s?
KING HENRY. The intention is, Gardiner, that every person of consequence shall be sworn.
STEPHEN. And if they refuse?
ANNE. Will it be treason?
THOMAS (cautious). It could be.
STEPHEN. It will never work. It’s preposterous – laughable! I wonder what Thomas More will say to your oath.
KING HENRY (quietly). Gardiner, why do you do this? (Explodes.) You obstruct me and exasperate me at every turn! (Roaring.) All I ask is a country godly and quietly governed, and some peace and quiet for myself!
ANNE. Perhaps, Bishop, in serving His Majesty as Master Secretary, you have neglected your diocese. As a good shepherd you should mind your sheep.
STEPHEN. My flock is safe in fold.
ANNE. Perhaps you should go count them.
STEPHEN. I assure you, madam –
ANNE. Go! Count!
STEPHEN. Who will do Master Secretary’s job?
KING HENRY. Cromwell will. You have leave to go.
STEPHEN. But if –
KING HENRY. You have leave!
STEPHEN. Majesty. (Bows out – black look for THOMAS.)
ANNE. Cremuel. Thomas More? I too wonder what he will say to your oath. You will make him swear. And anyone who resists me. Do it for my peace of mind. At such a time as this my peace of mind is very precious to me. Very. Precious.
KING HENRY (amused but puzzled). Indeed, sweetheart?
ANNE. Because I have a great desire to eat apples.
KING HENRY. What are you saying?
ANNE. What can it mean? My craving for apples?
KING HENRY. Oh, Nan! Already?
ANNE (goes to WYATT and takes his hand). Fetch me some apples, Tom – apples from Kent. Yes, you can tell them. Tell everybody – shout it to the world. (In a world of her own – ignores KING HENRY.) Write proclamations – the King shall have his son and heir. And any man who’ll not accept his titles shall die a traitor’s death.
ANNE exits with WYATT, followed by the Court.
THOMAS. I am happy for you, Majesty.
KING HENRY. Why did she go first to Wyatt?
THOMAS. Sir?
KING HENRY. What is it to him if she craves apples?
THOMAS. Sir, I’ve no wish to disappoint the Queen –
KING HENRY. No – you’d better not!
THOMAS. Gardiner may be right. I believe Thomas More may refuse the oath.
KING HENRY. Then you’ll make him sign it.
THOMAS. All Europe will wait to see what he –
KING HENRY. You’ll find a way.
THOMAS. But –
KING HENRY. Find a way.
THOMAS. It won’t be easy –
KING HENRY (explodes). Do I retain you for what is easy? Jesus pity my simplicity! – I have just promoted you to a place in this kingdom no one of your breeding has ever held in the whole history of the realm! Cromwell, you are as cunning as a bag of serpents, but do not be a viper in my bosom. You know my decision. Execute it. Find a way. Just do it. Do you understand me?
Scene Twenty-Eight
Lambeth Palace. CRANMER pacing, agitated. THOMAS comes in with papers and scrolls.
NORFOLK. We’d better have him in then.
CRANMER. Perhaps he’d agree to swear if we promised to keep his compliance secret? Then he wouldn’t lose face.
THOMAS. He wouldn’t, but we might.
MORE is brought in by GUARDS – dishevelled as usual, suffering from hay fever.
MORE. Spring is here. Soon we shall be dancing round the maypole. (Nods to CRANMER.) Thomas. (To NORFOLK.) Thomas. (To THOMAS.) Thomas. (To SUFFOLK.) Charles.
THOMAS. Have a seat, Thomas.
MORE sits – takes out spectacles, a book, papers, as if he’s settling down for the day.
NORFOLK. Here is the oath. (Unscrolling a large document.) And here’s a list of those who have sworn to it – bishops, priests, Members of Parliament – all accept Henry as Head of the Church in England, and my niece’s children as his only heirs.
MORE (mild – polite). Thank you. I’ve already seen it.
NORFOLK. And will you here and now swear to it?
No response.
THOMAS. He’s already said he won’t.
SUFFOLK. He may have changed his mind. Just sign it, man – then we can all go to dinner.
MORE smiles at his simple idiocy.
CRANMER. Why will you not take the oath? Is it because your conscience will not let you?
MORE. Yes.
> NORFOLK. Yes, and…? And?
MORE. Yes and nothing.
NORFOLK. You object to it but you won’t say why?
MORE. Yes.
CRANMER. Are there parts of the oath you could accept? (Silence.) Or do you object to each and every clause of it?
MORE. I’ve nothing to add. So I’d rather say… nothing.
CRANMER. And you feel no doubts about the stand you are taking?
MORE. I have taken no stand.
CRANMER. You must have considered arguments for and against compliance with His Majesty’s wishes? Surely you have doubts? Because a majority has studied and sworn this oath of loyalty to the King, and found no difficulty with it –
MORE (reasonable). ‘A majority’? You claim the majority. You say you have Parliament behind you. I have the whole of Christendom behind me – together with the angels and the saints, and all the company of the Christian dead, for as many generations as there have been since the Church was founded, one Church, undivided –
THOMAS. Oh, for the love of God! A lie is no less a lie because it’s the old lie – the thousand-year-old deception! Your undivided Church is hacking at its own limbs – in the low countries burying women alive – in Paris slowly roasting them so their suffering is increased –
MORE (patient). The body is burnt but the soul is saved. Better to burn with earthly fire than in the flames of eternity.
NORFOLK. You’ll get no further.
THOMAS. If you will not take the oath what conclusions may we draw? Where does your loyalty lie?
CRANMER. What is the King to think?
MORE. How can I answer? I know nothing of what’s in the King’s mind. And certainly he can draw no inference from my silence.
NORFOLK. Oh, but he can though! So what are we to say to him? You must give us your reasons.
MORE. How will you compel me?
CRANMER. In the name of Christ, don’t destroy yourself! Help the King. Help your country.
MORE. That is my intention – with prayers, certainly. With oaths? No.
CRANMER. If the Pope asked you to take an oath I believe you’d do it.
Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies Page 15