alm I
might do it. But oh, pardon and give ear. Pardon and give ear----'

He waved one hand furiously at the silken canopy above them.

'It is agreed with one of mine in Paris that she shall come hither--God
forgive me, I must make avowal, though God knows I would not--she shall
come hither to me if she do hear that I have risen to be a Chancellor.'

The King said, 'Body of God!' as if it were an earthquake.

'If it were anything else but Chancellor she might not come, and I would
wed Margot Poins more willingly than any other. But--God knows I do not
willingly make this avowal, but am in a corner, _sicut vulpis in
lucubris_, like a fox in the coils--this Paris woman is my wife.'

Henry gave a great shout of laughter, but slowly Margot Poins fell
across the Queen's knees. She uttered no sound, but lay there
motionless. The sight affected Udal to an epileptic fury.

'Jove be propitious to me!' he stuttered out. 'I know not what I can
do.' He began to tear the fur of his cloak and toss it over the
battlements. 'The woman is my wife--wed by a friar. If this were a
Protestant realm now--or if I pleaded pre-contract--and God knows I ha'
promised marriage to twenty women before I, in an evil day, married
one--eheu!--to this one----'

He began to sob and to wring his thin hands.

'_Quod faciam? Me miser! Utinam. Utinam----_'

He recovered a little coherence.

'If this were a Protestant land ye might say this wedding was no
wedding, for that a friar did it; but I know ye will not suffer that----'
His eyes appealed piteously to the Queen.

'Why, then,' he said, 'it is not upon my head that I do not wed this
wench. You be my witness that I would wed; it gores my heart to see her
look so pale. It tears my vitals to see any woman look pale. As
Lucretius says, "Better the sunshine of smiles----"'

A little outputting of impatient breath from Katharine made him stop.

'It is you, your Grace,' he said, 'that make me thus tied. If you would
let us be Protestant, or, again, if I could plead pre-contract to void
this Paris marriage it would let me wed with this wench--eheu--eheu. Her
brother will break my bones----'

He began to cry out so lamentably, invoking Pluto to bear him to the
underworld, that the King roared out upon him--

'Why, get you gone, fool.'

The Magister threw himself suddenly upon his knees, his hands clasped,
his gown drooping over them down to his wrists. He turned his face to
the Queen.

'Befor