ng carefully noted and
repeated by the ladies, mostly her personal enemies, who watched her night
and day; artful leading questions being put to her to tempt her to talk
the more. She was imprudent in her speech at the best of times, but now,
in a condition of acute hysteria, she served the interests of her enemies
to the full, dragging into her discourse the names of the gentlemen who
were accused and repeating their risky conversations with her, which were
now twisted to their worst meaning.[156] At one time she would only desire
death; then she would make merry with a good dinner or supper, chatting
and jesting, only to break down into hysterical laughter and tears in the
midst of her merriment. Anon she would affect to believe that her husband
was but trying her constancy, and pleaded with all her heart to be allowed
to see him again.[157] But he, once having broken the shackles, was gaily
amusing himself in gallant guise with Mistress Seymour, who was lodged,
for appearance' sake, in the house of her mentor, Sir Nicholas Carew, a
few miles from London, but within easy reach of a horseman. Anne in her
sober moments must have known that she was doomed. She hoped much from
Cranmer, almost the only friend of hers not now in prison; but Cranmer,
however strong in counsel, was a weak reed in combat; and hastened to save
himself at the cost of the woman upon whose shoulders he had climbed to
greatness. The day after Anne's arrest, Cranmer wrote to the King "a
letter of consolation; yet wisely making no apology for her, but
acknowledging how divers of the lords had told him of certain of her
faults, which, he said, he was sorry to hear, and concluded desiring that
the King would continue his love to the gospel, lest it should be thought
that it was for her sake only that he had favoured it."[158] Before he
had time to despatch the letter, the timorous archbishop was summoned
across the river to Westminster to answer certain disquieting questions of
the Commissioners, who informed him of the evidence against the Queen; and
in growing alarm for himself and his cause, he hurried back to Lambeth
without uttering a word in favour of the accused, whose guilt he accepted
without question.

Thenceforward Anne's enemies worked their way unchecked, even her father
being silenced by fear for himself. For Cromwell's safety it was necessary
that none of the accused should escape who later might do him injury; and
now that he and his imp