th all differences between the King and his master. The King responded
with equal graciousness, but turned the conversation upon those
differences themselves. The Emperor, he said, had not used him well. The
advocation to Rome was absurd. He had written himself to the Pope with his
own hand, telling him it was not only expedient but absolutely necessary
that the cause should be tried in England. The Roman territories were
still in the occupation of the Imperial troops. The Pope had committed it
to two of his Cardinals, had solemnly promised that it should not be
revoked, and that he would confirm any sentence which the Legates should
pronounce. These engagements the Emperor had obliged the Pope to break. He
himself had not proceeded upon light grounds. He was a conscientious
prince, he said, who preferred his own salvation to all worldly
advantages, as appeared sufficiently from his conduct in the affair. Had
he been differently situated and not attentive to his conscience, he might
have adopted other measures, which he had not taken and never would
take.[82] Chapuys attempted to defend Clement. "Enough of that pope,"
Henry sharply interrupted. "This is not the first time that he has changed
his mind. I have long known his versatile and fickle nature."[83] The
Pope, he went on, "would never dare pronounce sentence, unless it favoured
the Emperor."
Catherine was eagerly communicative. Chapuys learned from her that the
King had offered that the case should be heard at Cambray--which she had,
of course, refused. She was much alarmed about the Parliament, "the King
having played his cards so well that he would have a majority of votes in
his favour." It was quite certain that he meant to persevere. She
professed outwardly that she was personally attached to the King; yet she
desired Chapuys expressly to caution the Emperor against believing that
his conduct had anything to do with conscience. The idea of separation,
she said, had originated entirely in his own iniquity and malice, and when
the treaty of Cambray was completed, he had announced it to her with the
words: "My peace with the Emperor is made: it will last as long as you
choose."[84]
Chapuys had been charged to ascertain the feeling of the English people.
He found them generally well affected to the Queen. But the Lutheran
heresy was creeping in. The Duke of Suffolk had spoken bitterly of Papal
legates, and Chapuys believed if they had nothing to fear but the Po
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