The King's Confidante: the Story of the Daughter of Sir Thomas More (1970)
The King's Confidante: the Story of the Daughter of Sir Thomas More
“DEMANDED the King. “Who is this Thomas More? Eh? Answer me that.”
The King was angry. He sat very straight in the royal chair, one slender hand lying on the purple velvet which covered the table, the other stroking the ermine which covered his mantle. He was battling to subdue his rage, to preserve his habitual calm; for he was a shrewd man and his life had taught him that unheated words were more effective than the sword.
He looked from one to the other of the two men who sat with him at the velvet-covered table where lay the documents which had absorbed their attention until the entrance of the man Tyler.
“You, Empson! You, Dudley! Tell me this: Who is this man More?”
“Methinks I have heard his name, Your Grace,” said Sir Edmund Dudley. “But I know him not.”
“We should be more careful whom we allow to be elected as our London burgesses.”
“Indeed yes, Your Grace,” agreed Sir Richard Empson.
The King's fury was getting the better of him. He was glaring distastefully at Master Tyler, t...hat gentleman of the Privy Chamber who had brought the news; and it was not this king's habit to blame men for the news they brought.MoreLess
The King was angry. He sat very straight in the royal chair, one slender hand lying on the purple velvet which covered the table, the other stroking the ermine which covered his mantle. He was battling to subdue his rage, to preserve his habitual calm; for he was a shrewd man and his life had taught him that unheated words were more effective than the sword.
He looked from one to the other of the two men who sat with him at the velvet-covered table where lay the documents which had absorbed their attention until the entrance of the man Tyler.
“You, Empson! You, Dudley! Tell me this: Who is this man More?”
“Methinks I have heard his name, Your Grace,” said Sir Edmund Dudley. “But I know him not.”
“We should be more careful whom we allow to be elected as our London burgesses.”
“Indeed yes, Your Grace,” agreed Sir Richard Empson.
The King's fury was getting the better of him. He was glaring distastefully at Master Tyler, t...hat gentleman of the Privy Chamber who had brought the news; and it was not this king's habit to blame men for the news they brought.MoreLess
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