“Nay,” replied John. “What be they?”
“It were well to know them,” he answered. “These be they:—
“First, all the statutes of King Henry touching religion shall be put in force. No Sacramentary shall be admitted to any benefice; all married priests shall be deprived, but more lenity shall be shown to them whose wives be dead (to wit, I take it, they shall not be divorced from their dead wives). If they shall part by consent, and shall promise to commit the crime of matrimony no further, they may be admitted again, at discretion of the Bishop, but in no case to the same benefice. No religious man shall be suffered to wed. Processions, Latin service, holy days, fasts, and all laudable and honest ceremonies, shall be observed. Homilies shall be set forth. Men shall go to their parish church only. Suspected schoolmasters shall be put forth, and Catholic men put instead. And lastly, touching such persons as were heretofore promoted to any orders, after the new fashion (hark to this, Robin!) considering they were not ordained in very deed, the Bishop of the diocese, finding otherwise sufficiency and ability in these men, may supply that thing which wanted in them before, and thus according to his discretion permit them to minister.”
“Now here is a knot to untie: how say you concerning the divorce of such men, not again ordained of the Bishops? If they be not priests, then they need not to be divorced: or, if they be divorced, then are they priests.”
“Friend,” said John, “there is no better man in this world than Dr Gardiner for getting round a corner; and where he may not come round the corner, he hath Alisaunder’s sword, to cut the knot with no more ado.”
The blow fell at last, and the home in Leadenhall Street was broken up. Mr Rose himself brought his wife and daughter to the Lamb on the evening of the 10th of March, which was the last allowed for all married priests to separate from their wives. Doubtless the parting was very painful; but it passed in private, and the Averys too much reverenced his sorrow to suffer him to depart otherwise than in silence. Only John walked with him to his desolate home, and he told Isoult that not a word was spoken by either, but the clasp of Mr Rose’s hand at parting was not to be lightly forgotten.
The lads who had mimicked the rebellion were whipped and imprisoned for three days, and then released, by the Queen’s own command. On the 12th of March, the Archbishop, Dr Ridley, and Mr Latimer, set out for Oxford, where they were—ostensibly, to maintain their theories in a public disputation; really, to be martyred. Dr Hooper went part of the way with them. He was going to Gloucester—to the same end. For a week, Thekla flitted backwards and forwards between her parents; generally spending her mornings with her father, and the evenings with her mother. Robin constituted himself her guard in all her journeyings.
Sunday was the day after his bereavement, and Mr Rose was silent; but the following Sunday he preached at Mr Holland’s house, where the Gospellers gathered to hear him. Thekla remained with her mother; she would not leave her alone with her sorrowful thoughts. It was a rainy morning, but in the days before umbrellas were invented, rain was less thought of than it has been since. John Avery and his wife, Dr Thorpe, Esther, and Robin, set forth, despite the rain. Before they had gone many yards, they overtook a crowd of people, all running riverwards; and Isoult, looking towards the water, fancied that she could see the standard of the royal barge.
“Whither away?” asked John of some of the crowd.
But no answer was vouchsafed, except a cry of “The Tower!” till suddenly Mr Underhill hove in sight, and was questioned at once.