'Sir,' the King said, 'if you are minded to speak ill of this lady you had best had no mouth.'
Throckmorton fell upon one knee.
'Grant me the boon to be her advocate,' he said. 'And let me speak swiftly, for Privy Seal shall come soon and the Bishop of Winchester.'
'Ass that you are,' the King said, 'fetch me a stool from the chapel, that I may not stand all the day.'
Throckmorton ran swiftly to the folding doors.
'—Winchester comes,' he said hurriedly, when he returned.
The King sat himself gingerly down upon the three-legged stool, balancing himself with his legs wide apart. A dark face peered from the folding doors: a priest's shape came out from them.
'Cousin of Winchester,' the King called, 'bide where you be.'
He had the air of a man hardly intent on what the spy could say. He had already made up his mind as to what he himself was to say to Katharine.
'Sir,' Throckmorton said, 'this lady loves you well, and most well she loveth your Highness' daughter. Most well, therefore, doth she hate Privy Seal. I, as your Highness knoweth, have for long well loved Privy Seal. Now I love others better—the common weal and your great and beneficent Highness. As I have told your Highness, this Lady Katharine hath laboured very heartily to bring the Lady Mary to love you. But that might not be. Now, your Highness being minded to give to these your happy realms a lasting peace, was intent that the Lady Mary should write a letter, very urgently, to your Highness' foes urging them to make a truce with this realm, so that your Highness might cast out certain evil men and then better purge this realm of certain false doctrines.'