Never had he been at such a loss for words; never in the whole of his life had he received such a surprise. He had gone to the Palace prepared to defend himself and, instead of having to justify his action in the court of law, had found a more difficult task presented to him. He had tried to refuse an appointment at Court which the King himself had offered, when to refuse it would certainly be looked upon as an affront to His Grace.
Yet refuse it he must. He did not want to go to Court. He was no courtier. He did not want his quiet life to be disturbed. He had his work, his writing, his study, his family. They were enough for him; they gave him all that he desired in life. It was ironical; so many yearned for a place at Court; so many were ambitious; and he who did not seek it, who must refuse it, was having it thrust upon him.
As he was about to step into his barge, one of the Cardinal's servants came running to the rivers edge.
Wolsey's retinue were as magnificently attired as though they served the King; they wore a livery of crimson velvet trimmed with gold chains; and even his menials wore scarlet trimmed with black velvet.
“His Excellency the Cardinal begs you to wait awhile,” said the man. “He would have speech with you. He says the matter is of importance. Will you wait for him in his apartments, sir?”
“Assuredly I will,” said Thomas; and he was conducted back to the Palace.
There he was shown into the apartments of the Cardinal, the furnishings of which were as rich as those of the King. Thomas was taken through many rooms to a small chamber, and when he had waited in this chamber for five minutes, the Cardinal came in.
In his scarlet satin dress and tippet of sable, he dominated the room; and he wore his garments as though they delighted him. There were many stories current regarding the magnificence of the Cardinal. He kept several princely households, in which he stored many treasures. York House and Hampton Court were said to vie with the King s own palaces. He lived in great pomp, surrounded by a large retinue of servants; he had his cofferer, three marshals, an almoner, two yeomen ushers and two grooms; he had clerks of the kitchens, a clerk controller, even a clerk of the spicery; his pages, grooms of the scullery and scalding houses, grooms of the pantry, porters and yeomen were so numerous that even he did not know their number; and his cook was seen to strut in the grounds of his houses like a minor potentate in damask and with a chain of gold about his neck, carrying a nosegay or a pomander in imitation of his master, his own servants of the kitchen about him.
The grandeur of Wolsey exceeded, some said, that of the King himself; and because the Cardinal had risen to great heights from a lowly beginning, he was resented by those of high birth, who felt he should not be among them, and envied by those of low birth who felt he should be on their level. Yet he cared not for these criticisms. He cared not that the mischievous Skelton had written verses concerning the state he kept, and that the people were singing them in the streets, asking each other:
“Why come ye not to Court?
To which Court?
To the King's Court
Or to Hampton Court?
“The King's Court
Should have the excellence.
But Hampton Court
Hath the pre-eminence!”
Perhaps those who sung the verses believed they might rouse the King's resentment; but the King was not resentful toward his favorite, for Henry believed that all the magnificence with which the Cardinal surrounded himself came from his own kingly munificence. Henry had set the fountains playing; if he wished, he had but to give the order and their flow would cease. Hampton Court was in reality the King's Court, and the King's Court was Hampton Court. The Cardinal regarded the King as his puppet; but that was exactly how the King saw the Cardinal; each was unaware of the other's myopia, and while this was so they could feel safe and contented.
The Cardinal, though essentially ambitious, was not an unkindly man. There was no room in his life for malice for its own sake. There was one ruling passion in the Cardinal's life, and that was ambition. To the humble, he was generous; and his servants were fond of him. He had used religion as a ladder to fame and fortune; he used people, and if he found it necessary to destroy them, it was not out of malice or sudden anger; it was merely because they impeded his ambition.
He, like the King, had taken a fancy to Thomas More; he had seen that this man could be useful.
He had also seen what the King had not seen: that Thomas More was not overcome with joy at the prospect of the King's favor. It was not that Thomas More had been at a loss for words to express his gratitude; he had hesitated because he was wondering how to refuse the honors the King was ready to bestow. It was concerning this matter that the Cardinal wished to see Thomas More.
“I am glad that you returned to the Palace,” said the Cardinal.
“I would converse with you. You may speak frankly with me, as I will with you. And you need have no fear that what you say will go beyond these four walls, for my servant, Cavendish, whom I would trust with my life, will see that none overhears us. So … speak your mind freely to me, Master More, as I will speak mine to you.”
“What is it that Your Excellency has to say to me?”
“Merely this: You are considering how to refuse the King's offer, I believe?”
“You are right. I shall refuse it.”
“Such procedure would be misguided.”
“I will try to explain to you.”
The Cardinal lifted his well-cared-for hand. “Save your breath. I understand. You are not an ambitious man. You are a scholar who wishes to be left alone with the work he has chosen. I understand that point of view, although it is a most unusual one. I have read your literary works—and may I compliment you on their excellence? You prefer the secluded life. But if you rebuff the King's friendly gesture, you will be a foolish man. Nay … nay … mistake me not. I know that if a man does not seek fame, then he sets no store by it. But I do not talk of fame… of the advancement which I know could come to a man of your talents. I speak, Master More, of your life.”
“My life?”
“It could easily be at stake.”
“I do not understand you.”
“That is because you do not understand the man whom we have just left. You see him as a mighty King. Pray do not be alarmed. As I said, I shall speak frankly to you, even of the King. You may think I am incautious. But, my friend, if you carried tales of what I say to you now, I should deny them. Moreover, I should find some means of silencing you. But I speak to you thus because I know you are a man who would respect a confidence. I trust you as you trust me. You have just witnessed a little playacting in the royal apartments. Was it not charming? A humble official believes he has displeased the King; and then he finds that he has pleased him. The King is a boy at heart, Master More. He loves to play, and you have helped him to play a very pretty scene. Now, the King is not always a merry-tempered boy. Sometimes the young cub roars and sometimes he springs; and although I am his very watchful keeper, I cannot always save his victims from those mighty claws; even if I have a will to do so. You marvel? But, listen. I have a fancy for you … just as the King has. There are few men in this kingdom with brains and honesty… oh, very few. Having found one, I do not intend to let him slip through my fingers. I want you, Master More, to work with me. I can offer you a great career … fame … advancement…”
“Your Excellency …”
“You do not want them, I know. But you want to live. You want to go home to your clever children and your wife, do you not? You want to go on conversing with your learned friends. Oh, life is sweet, Master More, when it brings as much to a man as it has brought to you. But think of this: A child plays his games and he loves his toys; but if a toy displeases him, what does he do? He smashes it. Master More, when you played the honorable lawyer this day, you took a great risk. But the boy liked his playlet; he liked his new role. Perhaps he has heard his praises sung too consistently of late. Who shall say? But you pleased him. You played your part so well that the principal actor was able to outshine us all. Now, the King will not be pleased if you do not continue to make him feel pleased with himself, if you do not allow him to show the world what a beneficent monarch he is.”