their pressure with a pressure of his own; and the progress of his arms
decided Clement to avoke the cause to Rome. Wolsey could only hope to
anticipate this decision by pushing the trial hastily forward, and at
the end of May the two legates opened their court in the great hall of
the Blackfriars.

King and Queen were cited to appear before them when the court again met
on June 18th. Henry briefly announced his resolve to live no longer in
mortal sin. The Queen offered an appeal to Clement, and on the refusal
of the legates to admit it flung herself at Henry's feet. "Sire," said
Catharine, "I beseech you to pity me, a woman and a stranger, without an
assured friend and without an indifferent counsellor. I take God to
witness that I have always been to you a true and loyal wife, that I
have made it my constant duty to seek your pleasure, that I have loved
all whom you loved, whether I have reason or not, whether they are
friends to me or foes. I have been your wife for years; I have brought
you many children. God knows that when I came to your bed I was a
virgin, and I put it to your own conscience to say whether it was not
so. If there be any offence which can be alleged against me I consent to
depart with infamy; if not, then I pray you to do me justice."

The piteous appeal was wasted on a king who was already entertaining
Anne Boleyn with royal state in his own palace; the trial proceeded, and
on July 23d the court assembled to pronounce sentence. Henry's hopes
were at their highest when they were suddenly dashed to the ground. At
the opening of the proceedings Campeggio rose to declare the court
adjourned to the following October. The adjournment was a mere evasion.
The pressure of the imperialists had at last forced Clement to summon
the cause to his own tribunal at Rome, and the jurisdiction of the
legates was at an end.

"Now see I," cried the Duke of Suffolk as he dashed his hand on the
table, "that the old saw is true, that there was never legate or
cardinal that did good to England!" The Duke only echoed his master's
wrath. Through the twenty years of his reign Henry had known nothing of
opposition to his will. His imperious temper had chafed at the weary
negotiations, the subterfuges and perfidies of the Pope. Though the
commission was his own device, his pride must have been sorely galled by
the summons to the legates' court. The warmest adherents of the older
faith revolted against the degradation of t