“We have brought an instrument to you, my liege,” said Wolsey, “which has just been received from his holiness the Pope.”
“Declare its nature,” said Henry.
“It is a citation,” replied Wolsey, “enjoining your high ness to appear by attorney in the papal court, under a penalty of ten thousand ducats.”
And he presented a parchment, stamped with the great seal of Rome, to the king, who glanced his eye fiercely over it, and then dashed it to the ground, with an explosion of fury terrible to hear and to witness.
“Ha! by Saint George!” he cried; “am I as nothing, that the Pope dares to insult me thus?”
“It is a mere judicial form your majesty,” interposed Campeggio, “and is chiefly sent by his holiness to let you know we have no further jurisdiction in the matter of the divorce.”
“I will take care you have not, nor his holiness either,” roared the king. “By my father's head, he shall find I will be no longer trifled with.”
“But, my liege,” cried Campeggio.
“Peace!” cried the king. “I will hear no apologies nor excuses. The insult has been offered, and cannot be effaced. As for you, Wolsey—”
“Sire!” exclaimed the cardinal, shrinking before the whirlwind of passion, which seemed to menace his utter extermination.