François was now married to Charles's sister Eleanora, as part of the peace terms. But although he was allowed to leave Madrid, which seemed necessary if he was to recover fully, he had to deliver his two sons, the Dauphin and the Duc d'Orléans, as hostages until the treaty was signed. So the two little boys were sent to Madrid and François had returned. Poor François! They said he had left his youth behind in a Madrid prison.
There were other important events taking place in Europe. Pope Leo had died and Clement VII had replaced him. Wolsey's dream of being Pope had not come true. I could not feel sorry for him. I would never forgive him for what he had done to Henry Percy and because he had regarded me as a foolish girl unworthy to mate with the great House of Northumberland. Wolsey's conduct—although it had been instigated by the King—was unforgivable. I was glad Clement had been chosen instead of him. So he had not gained the Papal Crown and here he was in England, the servant of an unpredictable master. The King was delighted that he had failed to be elected, so George told me. He could not bear the thought of parting with Wolsey.
I said: “Is he so important to the King then?”
“Henry could not do without him. Wolsey has genius. One has to admit that.”
It was true. He was involved in many diplomatic negotiations. His name was a byword on the Continent. When people thought of influencing the King, they first thought of Wolsey.
However, as soon as François was free, he set about inducing Pope Clement to absolve him from his oath. Clement was no Leo. That he was weak, swaying toward whichever side would bring more benefits to him, became more and more obvious to us later.
He absolved François from his oath, which, of course, meant that François would immediately plan to go to war again.
The power of the Emperor had increased enormously. He was now the most powerful man in Europe. Young as he was, he was proving a statesman of stature, and this gave great concern to those who had previously been his allies. The King, with Wolsey behind him, sought to break the alliance with the Emperor and form a new one with France and the Italian states. This was the reason why the French ambassadors were in England.
I supposed that satisfactory conclusion had been reached and this was to be their farewell entertainment.
Thomas had written the masque. There was a certain amount of mime, poetic lines were to be declaimed and some singing. Several of the ladies would be dressed as nymphs and they were to be disturbed by satyrs from whom they ran in terror to be rescued by heroic knights. It was a setting which had been used many times; the difference was in the singing and the dances, which would be more exciting than anything that had been done before.
During the day the great hall was hung with tapestries. These usually depicted some great battle but at Poitiers, Crécy, Agincourt and suchlike the French had been our enemies, so we fell back on the Field of the Cloth of Gold, which seemed one of the few occasions when there had been amity between our two nations.
Some very artistic scenery had been erected and this never failed to win admiration.
The King would naturally take part. He would be the leader of the knights who rescued the maidens from the satyrs.
There was a great deal of laughter as we planned all this. I often thought the planning was more fun than the actual performance. I had given a lot of attention to what I should wear. Water nymphs should be green but I wanted to wear red and I did. My gown was red velvet but it fell open from the waist to the hem to show a green velvet petticoat. The band about my neck was green velvet, as was the lining of my hanging sleeves. It had been difficult to find a green which toned to my satisfaction, but I decided that the contrast was quite effective.
I felt a mingling of apprehension and excitement. If he ignored me tonight, I was sure that I was safe, for if he had intended to banish me, he would surely have done so by now. Yet suppose his ardor had remained, what then?
My gown was becoming. Perhaps I should have made myself drab. That was something I could not do. Clothes had always been so important to me and I did not think I could be entirely happy when they were becoming—nor could I be completely happy if they lacked charm.
I wanted to remain at Court. I wanted to be the brightest star of the evening. I wanted admiration from them all, including the King. But I must be in control of it and never allow any of them to get beyond desiring, and my instinct warned me that they must do so if their desire was satisfied.
So in high excitement I danced and I sang; I fled in terror from the satyrs; and then out came the knights wearing masks, of course, in a ridiculous pretense of hiding their identities—their leader tall and commanding, a glittering figure.
I made sure I did not run toward him but almost flung myself into the arms of one of the other rescuing knights. But he was thrust aside and Henry was seizing me.
“Mine, I think,” he said, and I was immediately relinquished.
“Thank you, good knight,” I said, rather apprehensively.
“Have no fear, maiden. You are safe now.”
I was one maiden who felt far from safe.
Then there followed the unmasking of the knights and the exclamations of amazement.
He was looking at me with a boyish expression of pleasure. I think he was expecting me to be overcome with surprise to find that the tall, glittering figure was not a humble knight but the King.
I almost liked him then. There was something appealing in his child-like amusement, his love of a game, his boyish indifference to reality.
But my anxiety was acute. I suffered a great many qualms because I knew that the chase was not over; it was only just beginning.
“I trust,” he said, “that you are grateful for your rescue.”
“Your Grace is indeed a valiant knight.”
“I was just in the nick of time. I did not care to see you carried off by another.”
“Your Grace is very kind,” I said cautiously.
“And would be kinder.”
I pretended not to hear that.
He had taken my hand. They had started to play a galliard.
“I know you dance like an angel,” he said. “There is no one who dances as you do.”
Now was the cue. The correct answer was: I am clumsy compared with Your Grace. But I said: “I have never thought of angels dancing. One sees them playing harps. But dancing…never.”
He said: “You like to tease, Mistress Boleyn.” That was a hint of reproof. Be careful. I did not like that little mouth. It was slack and happy at the moment, but I knew it could be cruel.
I said: “Did not Your Grace think the scene was well done?”
“Yes…yes… that was Wyatt, I dareswear.”
“And the nymphs…they were charming, were they not?”
“I saw only one of them.”
“Your Grace!”
“Have done. You know my heart.”
“I can add nothing to what I told Your Grace at our last meeting.”
“We'll see,” he muttered, his lips tightening—the spoiled boy, I thought, who has been told he may not have another sugar plum.
We gave our attention to the dance. People stood apart from us. I was more than a little uneasy. He had already shown his preference for me by choosing me from among the nymphs. There would be a great deal of talk now. I imagined the sly comment: Off with the elder sister; on the with younger.
No, I told myself vehemently. It shall not be.
But I knew in my heart that this passion of his was something which could not be lightly thrust aside.
I was aware of the Queen. She was watching us and there was an expression of infinite sadness in her eyes. I knew that she took little pleasure in occasions of this nature, but for this one she must put in an appearance.