would have spared him, for, at that
time, he still possessed some respect for learning and virtue, and
Thomas More was so renowned a scholar that the king held him in
reverence. But Anne Boleyn demanded his death, and so Thomas More must
be executed. Oh, believe me, Jane, that was an important and sad hour
for all England, the hour when Thomas More laid his head upon the block.
We only, we gay people in the palace of Whitehall, we were cheerful
and merry. We were dancing a new kind of dance, the music of which was
written by the king himself, for you know the king is not merely an
author, but also a composer, and as he now writes pious books, so he
then composed dances. [Footnote: Granger's "Biographical History of
England," vol. I, p. 137. of Tytler, p. 354.] That evening, after we
had danced till we were tired, we played cards. Just as I had won a few
guineas from the king, the lieutenant of the Tower came with the tidings
that the execution was over, and gave us a description of the last
moments of the great scholar. The king threw down his cards, and,
turning an angry look on Anne Boleyn, said, in an agitated voice, 'You
are to blame for the death of this man!' Then he arose and withdrew to
his apartments, while no one was permitted to follow him, not even the
queen. [Footnote: Tytler, p. 354] You see, then, that Anne Boleyn had
a claim on our gratitude, for the death of Thomas More delivered Old
England from another great peril. Melanchthon and Bucer, and with them
several of the greatest pulpit orators of Germany, had set out to come
to London, and, as delegates of the Germanic Protestant princes, to
nominate the king as head of their alliance. But the terrible news of
the execution of their friend frightened them back, and caused them to
return when half-way here. [Footnote: Tytler, p. 357. Leti, vol. I, p.
180. Granger, vol. I, p. 119.]

"Peace, then, to the ashes of unhappy Anne Boleyn! However, she was
avenged too, avenged on her successor and rival, for whose sake she was
made to mount the scaffold--avenged on Jane Seymour."

"But she was the king's beloved wife," said Jane, "and when she died the
king mourned for her two years."

"He mourned!" exclaimed Lord Douglas, contemptuously. "He has mourned
for all his wives. Even for Anne Boleyn he put on mourning, and in his
white mourning apparel, the day after Anne's execution, he led Jane
Seymour to the marriage altar! This outward mourning, what does it
sign