The Autobiography of Henry VIII_ With Notes by His Fool, Will Somers - Margaret George [188]
Our laughter then slowly died, and we faced one another. In the dull firelight, which was usually so kind to women, she was still frightfully ugly. No, not frightfully, for I was no longer afraid of her, nor she of me. But the situation—0 sweet Jesu, the situation! I was husband to a wife I could be no husband to. And that was no laughing matter.
I sank my head morosely into my hands, and thus I remained tor several moments. I became aware, then, of the most debilitating tiredness. I longed for sleep; my head spun. I looked over at Anne and saw her watching me warily, like a bird eyeing a cat.
She was afraid of me. Between my fingers (where she could not see me looking) I saw the apprehension and animal fright on her face. Then I remembered what Will had told me the people claimed was Christina of Denmark’s answer to my inquiries about her eligibility: “His first Queen he killed with a broken heart; his second was unjustly executed; and his third was killed through lack of care after childbirth.” And then, “However, if I had two heads, one of them should be at the King of England’s disposal.” I had thought it one of Will’s jests, and laughed. Now I wondered if he had been truer than he realized.
WILL:
“Truer than he realized.” Oh, Henry, Henry! It was you who were blind and deaf to what you had become in the eyes of Europe. When you sent your envoys out, seeking another bride, you were no longer the great matrimonial catch you had been before your Great Matter. No respectable Princess wanted to marry you! She felt it would be taking her life in her hands—that, at the very least, you were jinxed, even if you did not deliberately seek to undo your wives. Luckily, the Duchy of Cleves was so shielded, and the Lady Anne so ignorant of English and gossip, that her brother agreed to your suit. No, Henry, I did not jest. In fact, I censored the worst of the current remarks—the quotes I gave you were the only repeatable ones!
HENRY VIII:
But those who made refrains were ignorant! They had no idea of what they spoke. And why did they always take the woman’s side? Katherine did not die “of a broken heart.” She died of Anne’s poison and her own foolish pride. If only she had co-operated with me, she would never have ended her days in the fens! No, she would have lived in luxury and shared Mary with me, grown old in honour. And Nan—thank God the common people did not know the true blackness of her soul, the degradation of that Witch—lest they tremble and shiver in their beds and never know safety again. Even from the grave she cursed me, headless demon! And sweet Jane. God took her from me, and God alone knows how I would have ransomed my kingdom to save her. The people made a b.
I felt as if she were right there. Oh, wrong was I to have conjured up her shade! I fought to free myself from it; I reached over and touched Anne of Cleves’s arm, startling her.
“Let us sleep,” I said in as low and gentle a voice as I could. She could understand the intent, if not the actual words. She smiled slowly, then followed me back to bed, so preposterously appointed for love. Together we slid down into the satin and passed the calmest bridal night of any new-wedded pair since Mark and Isold.
We overslept. They awaited us at early Mass in the Chapel Royal, then went ahead and said Mass without us. They awaited us in the Privy Chamber, fresh garments at the ready, a great silver bowl of spiced wine for our comfort. They awaited me at my Council Chamber, where Cromwell, Cranmer, the Admiral, and others expected to detail the plans for the obligatory post-nuptial jousts, tournaments, and banquets. They awaited us impatiently, eagerly, lecherously, like a pack of schoolboys suddenly privy to the private life of their schoolmaster. And I, the schoolmaster, avoided them and played truant like a student: our roles were reversed.
The wan January sun streamed in the windows, warming nothing. I glanced at Anne, sleeping beside me. Yes, she was as ugly as I had thought. The emasculated sun was still strong and merciless