The Constable of the Tower

“Heaven avert it!” exclaimed the young king. “But let us change the topic. Tell me the subject of your studies, my learned cousin?”

“I can lay no claim to the epithet your Majesty hath bestowed upon me,” she replied. “But the book I am reading is Martin Bucer’s ‘Commentary on the Gospels.'”

“I have heard of it from my tutor, Doctor Cox, who describes it as an admirable treatise. You shall expound it to me, Jane. Doubtless you have read Bucer’s ‘Commentary on the Psalms’?”

“I have, my liege, and I will essay to expound that work to you, as also the ‘Pirskoavol’ of Paul Fagius, which I have been lately reading, if you be so minded.”

“You could not please me better. I am certain to derive profit and instruction from your comments, Jane. The preparation is needful, for it is my purpose to invite Bucer and Fagius to England. His Grace of Canterbury hath already spoken to me concerning them. It shall be my aim to make my court the resort of learned and pious men, and, above all, of such as are most zealous for the reform of the Church, and its complete purification from the errors of Popery.”

“Bucer and Fagius are both men of great learning and piety, sound and severe controversialists, able and ready to refute and assail, if need be, the adversaries of the good cause, and I am rejoiced that your Grace intends to invite them to your court. You will do yourself honor thereby. But there is another person, not unknown to your Highness, who I think might be of service in carrying out the mighty work of the Reformation which you project. I mean the Princess Elizabeth’s instructor, worthy Master Roger Ascham.”

“I have not overlooked him,” replied Edward. “Ascham merits promotion, and he shall have it. A man must needs be master of Greek to fill a professor’s chair in St. John’s College, Cambridge, as Ascham hath filled it, and his knowledge of divinity is equal, I am told, to his scholarship. My wise and well-beloved father chose him from his acquirements to be Elizabeth’s instructor—she is now reading Sophocles and Cicero with him—and when his task with her is finished, as it must be ere long, for she is a quick and willing scholar—I will have him near me.”

“Your Grace will do well,” rejoined Jane. “Roger Ascham ought to be one of the luminaries of our age; and, above all, he is a godly man, and without guile. His latinity is remarkably pure.”

“It must be so, if you commend it, my learned cousin,” remarked the king, “for you are a very competent judge. Both Sir John Cheke and Doctor Cox lauded your Latin letters to me, and said they were written with classic elegance and purity.”

“Your Grace will make me vain,” rejoined Jane, slightly coloring; “but I am bound to state that my own worthy tutor, Master Elmer, made the same remarks upon the letters with which you have honored me. Talking of my correspondents—if I may venture to speak of any other in the same breath as your Majesty—I am reminded that there is another person worthy of your attention, inasmuch as he would be a humble but zealous co-operator in your great design. The person I refer to is Henri Bullinger, disciple and successor of Zwinglius, and at this present a pastor at Zurich. Bullinger hath suffered much persecution, and would endure yet more if needful.”

“Bullinger is an ardent Reformer,” observed Edward. “He assisted, I remember, at the famous conference at Berne. You shall tell me more about him on some other occasion, and if you will favor me with a sight of his letters to you I shall be well pleased. Meanwhile, you may rest satisfied that he shall not be forgotten. You are a very zealous advocate for the Reformed faith yourself, cousin Jane.”

“I have that in me which would enable me to die for the religion I profess, sire,” she cried, looking upwards.

“I do not doubt your constancy, sweet cousin, but I trust it will never be put to the proof,” said the young king, approvingly. “I came out to study Justinian and Bracton, but you have given me a far better lesson than any law-maker could afford. You must come often to our court, Jane, whether we be at Westminster, Shene, or Windsor.”

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