“This, Mrs Avery,” answered she. “My Lord Protector, being no Lutheran, but a Gospeller, is not over well liked of some that be Lutherans, and no Gospellers: and as for us poor Catholics, we never (you know) held him for a saint. So this being the case (this in thine ear, Isoult—’tis under benedicite (under the seal of confession)), certain, if not all of the King’s Council, be resolved to be rid of my high and mighty Lord. And ere thou be ten days older, I count thou shalt hear somewhat thereof. I have so much from a good hand, that can be trusted; the name I utter not.”
“Then,” said Isoult, “be the Catholics and Lutherans conspiring together for this?”
“Truth,” answered she; “they that be least Christians of both.”
“You say well, Mrs Philippa,” replied Isoult.
“Do I so, Mrs Avery?” she answered.
“I cry you mercy!” said Isoult; “Philippa, then, if you will have it so.”
“Ay, I will have it so,” said she, laughing.
“But,” answered Isoult, “what saith the King’s Highness thereto?”
“The King!” exclaimed she. “The King marketh but his twelfth birthday this month, dear heart. What can he know? or an’ he spake, who would heed him?”
“But,” said Isoult, “we hear for ever of his Highness’ sageness and wisdom, such as ’tis said never had Prince afore him.”