“With all submission, I do not think that the duke hath had any such daring presumption,” observed the Constable of the Tower. “But touching the Earl of Surrey: in what hath that peerless nobleman offended?”
“Peerless you well may call him,” cried Henry; “for in his own conceit he hath never a peer. Why could not his ambition content itself with shining in Phœbus’ court? Why should it soar so high in ours? His treason is the same as his father’s. He hath quartered in his shield the arms of Edward the Confessor, denoting pretensions to the crown.”
“What more?” demanded the Constable of the Tower.
“What more!” repeated Henry. “Is not that enough? But since you lack further information, Sir Thomas Seymour shall give it you. Tell him what thou knowest, Sir Thomas.”
“It were too long to tell all, my liege,” replied Seymour. “In regard to his arms, instead of a duke’s coronet, Surrey has put a cap of maintenance purple, with powdered fur, and a close crown, and underneath the arms the king’s cipher.”
“You hear?” cried Henry, sternly.
“Let me propound these questions to Sir John Gage,” pursued Seymour. “If a man shall compass to rule the realm, and go about to rule the king, what imports it? Again, if the same man shall declare that if the king dies, none shall have the rule of the prince save his father and himself—what imports it? Again, if that man shall say, ‘If the king were dead I would shortly shut up the prince’—what imports it?”
“Treason—arrant treason,” replied Gage.
“Then, all this and more of the same treasonous stuff hath Surrey uttered,” rejoined Seymour. “He hath sought to bring about a union ‘twixt myself and his sister, the Duchess of Richmond, in order that he might have more influence with the King’s Highness.”
“Is this indeed true, Sir Thomas?” inquired Catherine, quickly.
“Ay, madam,” he replied. “But failing in his scheme, the earl thenceforth became my mortal enemy, reviling me and my brother Hertford, and vowing that, if Heaven should call away the king, he would avenge himself upon us and all the upstart nobility, as he insolently styles us. He hates us—bitterly hates us for our love to the king, and for the favor shown us by his Highness. He says his Majesty has had ill counsels.”
“How say you now, Sir John?” cried Henry. “Are you not satisfied that the Duke of Norfolk and his son are a couple of traitors?”
“Humph! not altogether,” rejoined the constable.
“You are hard to be convinced, Sir John,” said Seymour. “But think not, though I have spoken of myself and my brother Hertford, that I have any personal enmity to Surrey, much less any fear of him. But he is a traitor and dissembler. One of his servants hath been in Italy with Cardinal Pole, and hath been received again on his return. Moreover, he hath Italian spies in his employ, and is in secret correspondence with Rome.”
“Are ye still incredulous?” demanded Henry.
“I know not what to say,” replied the constable, in a troubled tone. “But I fear me much that both are condemned.”
“Come with us to the Council, and you shall hear more,” said Henry. “You seem to doubt our justice, but you shall find that we never punish without good cause, nor ever allow the greatness of the offender to shield him from just punishment. Fare ye well, sweetheart, for a while. Get well quickly, an you love us! Give me your arm, Butts; and yours, Sir John.”
Upon this he was raised with some difficulty from his seat, and, supported between the two persons he had named, he moved slowly out of the room.
When his back was turned, Seymour drew somewhat nearer to the queen.
“You have saved my life, Sir Thomas,” said Catherine, in a low tone, and with a look of deep gratitude. “How can I pay the debt I owe you?”
“There is small merit in the service, madam,” he replied, in a low, impassioned voice. “I have saved you because your life is dearer to me than my own. I may claim a reward—but not now!”
And with a profound obeisance he retired, casting a parting look at the queen as he passed through the door.
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