“And Mr Underhill?”
“Ay, that was he, in the bravest and marvellousest velvet gown ever thou sawest in all thy days, and a doublet and slop (very wide breeches introduced from Holland) of satin, and a gold chain thick enough to tie up a dog with. And there, sweet heart, was my most gracious Lord of Northumberland—in a claret velvet gown sewed with gold braid—and for as many inches as could be found of the plain velvet in that gown, I will give any man so many nobles. There was not one! And the bonnet in ’s hand!—with a great ruby for a button!—and all set with seed-pearl!—and the jewels in the hilt of’s sword!—and great rubies in face of his shoes! The dolt and patch that he is!”
“I do believe Dr Thorpe had beheaded my Lord of Northumberland,” said John, laughing, “if that sword had been in his belt in lieu of the other.”
“I never saw him afore,” replied he, “and I never do desire to see him again. He looketh the rogue (then a stronger word than now) that he is.”
“And now, as a physician, what think you of the King?” asked John, sadly.
“I will give him three months to die in,” was Dr Thorpe’s short and woeful answer.
By the second of July, England knew that the King was dying. No longer could there be any question of the sorrowful truth. He was at Greenwich Palace, Archbishop Cranmer and Bishop Ridley in frequent waiting on him; and summons was sent to his sisters to come quickly. On the 3rd of July, which was Sunday, Dr Ridley preached at the Cross, where he dimly foreshadowed the disposition of the Crown that was coming. All who heard him were much astonished, for not a word had crept out before. It was plain from what he said that the King’s sisters were to be passed over (to the no little surprise of all who knew his love for the Princess Elizabeth); but it was not plain who was to come instead; and the rumour ran that it would be the Lady Frances, Duchess of Suffolk, the niece of King Henry, and mother of the Lady Jane Grey.
On the evening of the 6th of July, came a comforting rumour that the King was better, and a hope sprang up that he would yet recover. Those who knew the Duke of Northumberland might have guessed at treachery. In truth, the King died that day; but the Duke kept it secret, until he thought his plans secure for the Lady Jane’s succession.
On the morning of the 10th of July, came Dr Thorpe in great haste, from the barber’s.
“Isoult!” cried he, “tie thine hood and bring the childre!”