The minstrel tries, and tries in vain, to oust the idol from her seat. She will not be dethroned, and cannot be replaced. At length, he yields his spirit to the golden chain; for even though another has obtained her heart, he will remain her servant to the end:

"Though for goodwill, I find but hate
And cruelty my life to waste;

And though that still a wretched state
Should pine my days unto the last;

Yet I profess it willingly,

To serve and suffer patiently.”

The sentiment breathing through all the minstrel's songs and sonnets is that of resignation to his fate.

4. Was the palmer growing jealous of a minstrel so discreet? The palmer was a minstrel also; and a minstrel yearning for poetic fame. He too, had written songs and sonnets. He was dreaming of a tragedy, in which his songs and sonnets might be introduced. The spirit of his verse was neither lofty nor etherial, and the younger critics of the court were apt to smile at his pretensions to the poet's crown.

5. Wyat, the minstrel, had many claims on Henry, other than those which grew out of his piping in a Court of Love. His father's service had been faithful, and his own deserts were high. Henry was fond of his society, and spent so much time in his chamber, that Wyat's room became, in popular phrase, a pathway into royal favour. When a man obtained a grant, an office, a preferment, it was commonly said, "He has been in Wyat's closet."

6. Russell, one of the six gentlemen of the bedchamber, had been abroad some time; chiefly in Italy, waiting near the camp of Bourbon, and watching the great drama in the Milanese. On Wolsey's change of policy, much going to and fro of men was needed; for a league of priests and princes, dukes and kings, had to be formed, in which a hundred jarring enmities and interests were to be combined. Wyat was sent abroad, but ere the year was out he was again at court.

7. Wolsey was too busy with his schemes to take much notice of a May-day game, that seemed to him no more important than the usual masques. He thought the King dishonest in his suit to Anne, and he had no objection to dishonest love. A graceless priest, he took so little care to hide his shame, that everybody knew Tom Winter as his son. This lad was now at school in France, where he was lodged in princely style, and visited by the greatest people for his father's sake. "Every one praises him," wrote Russell to the Cardinal, "both for his own deserts, and for your Grace's sake. He lives here openly, and many worshipful men resort to him, French as well as English." Wolsey put his son into the church, and heaped on him the livings of a dozen parish priests. The lad was Rector of Rugby and Ipswich; Prebendary of Lutton, Strensall, Bedwin, Beverly, Lincoln, and Southwell; Archdeacon of York and Richmond; Chancellor of Salisbury; Provost of Beverley; and Dean of Wells. So shameless an abuse of patronage had not been seen since Morton's days; but Wolsey was not satisfied with

two rectories, six prebendary stalls, two archdeaconries, a chancellorship, a provostship, and a deanery, for his bastard son. Henry had promised him a bishopric for the lad, and Wolsey kept his eye on that of Durham, as the richest see in England, with the greatest house in London. Had the Cardinal been chosen pope, Tom Winter might have worn a cardinal's hat.

8. A man so shameless as Wolsey was not likely to reprove his master, while he thought that master meant no good. That Henry liked Anne's company, and that he sought her out in every place, were clear to Wolsey's eyes. The Cardinal looked on, as he had done with Mistress Blount; encouraging his sovereign's fancy, and providing feasts and dances, where the King might meet his lady, and enjoy the fantasies of his love. York Place grew gay with light and music. Henry came in cloak and mask; going in and out among the dancers; chatting for an instant here and there; but nestling down before the same bright eyes and merry tongue. The world took notice of the pair; one bold and loud, the other soft and shy; but no one fancied, even on a May-day, that the impetuous suitor of Anne Boleyn would be satisfied to wait for her bright eyes through seven long years!

CHAPTER III.

York Place.

1527.

I. THE New Year revels at York Place ran high, and Wolsey gave a supper which has taken an immortal place on Shakespeare's page. The Queen and Lady Willoughby were absent, for the Cardinal meant the night as one of love and merriment. But all the ministers of foreign states-the Papal nuncio, the French ambassador, the Venetian envoy, with the greatest peers and brightest dames in England -supped and danced beneath the Cardinal's roof that night. To every guest a lovely damsel was assigned. When all were seated at the board, the King led in a band of masquers, and having bowed to the Cardinal, and thrown a cast of dice, took off his disguise, and went into a cabinet to sup.

2. Italians, used to every luxury of earth, declared that they had never seen such fruit, and never drank such wine before. A comedy by Plautus followed supper, after which came verse and compliment, and then more wine and sweets were handed round. A masque was played. Venus and six attendant nymphs were seen in front. Three boys drew in a Cupid on a car of love, to which were fastened six old palmers, dressed in silver cloth, whom Cupid presented to the goddess as faithful swains who wore their souls away in sighs. Venus turned to

her attendants, and commanded them to soothe these palmers and requite them for their love. A blare of horns struck up, the nymphs advanced, the palmers seized their hands, and all the figures twirled a merry dance. The King and his companions rose, and taking each the lady of his fancy, kept the revelry alive till daylight broke. "I went home sated with the revel," wrote Spinelli to the Doge; and Wolsey hoped that after such a night the King would drop his fancies, turn from courts of Love, and seek a second wife in France.

3. "Sated with the revel," says Spinelli quaintly, "I am writing a public letter to the Signory, to be given to Sir John Russell, now on the eve of his departure for France, on his way to the Pope." While young and old were feasting at York Place that night, Wolsey was busy with his schemes, now quickened by the latest news from Italy and France. Keen wits were needed in both countries if a league was to be formed and an alliance carried out. Rochford was named for Paris, Russell for Rome; and the affairs of Rome being urgent, Russell was required to start at once. Wyat was to go with Russell, and in the depth of winter the adventurers set out.

4. The Pontiff was insulted in his palace, and the temple of St. Peter was profaned. Ugo de Moncada, the Imperialist commander, who combined the office of a Prior with the instinct of a bandit, whispered to Pompeo Colonna, an implacable enemy of the Pope, that his master, the Emperor, had resolved to ruin Clement, and depose him from the holy chair.