'They lie far in the Western Ocean; I had an Italian would have built me ships to reach them,' he said, and Katharine answered:
'I do take them to be a fable of the ancients, for they had no heaven to pray for.'
When his eyes were not upon her she was not afraid, and the heavy weight of his hand upon her shoulder made her feel firm to bear it. But she groaned inwardly because she had urgent words that must be said, and she imagined that nothing could be calmer in the Fortunate Islands themselves than this to walk and converse about their gracious image that shone down the ages. He said, with a heavy, dull voice:
'I would give no little to be there.'
Suddenly she heard herself say, her heart leaping in her chest:
'I do not like the errand they have sent my cousin upon.'
The blessed Utopia of the lost islands had stirred in the King all sorts of griefs that he would shake off, and all sorts of remembrances of youth, of open fields, and a wide world that shall be conquered—all the hopes and instincts of happiness, ineffable and indestructible, that never die in passionate men. He said dully, his thoughts far away:
'What errand have they sent him upon? Who is your goodly cousin?'
She answered:
'They put it about that he should murder Cardinal Pole,' and she shook so much that he was forced to take his hand from her shoulder.