August 16.

The Lord begins to cut us short.  We are now on very meagre commons, dear mother being obliged to pay fifteen shillings a week for the board, meagre as it is, of father and his servant.  She hath parted with her velvet gown.

August 20.

I have seen him, and heard his precious words.  He hath kist me for us alle.

November.  Midnight.

Dear little Bill hath ta’en a feverish attack.  Early in the night his mind wandered, and he says fearfullie, “Mother, why hangs yon hatchet in the air with its sharp edge turned towards us?”

I rise, to move the lamp, and say, “Do you see it now?”

He sayth, “No, not now,” and closes his eyes.

November 17.

He’s gone, my pretty! ...  Slipt through my fingers like a bird upfled to his native skies.  My Billy-bird!  His mother’s own heart!  They are alle wondrous kind to me....

March, 1535.

Spring comes, that brings rejuvenescence to the land and joy to the heart, but none to me, for where hope dieth joy dieth.  But patience, soul; God’s yet in the aumry!

IV.—­The Worst is Done

May 7.

Father arraigned.

July 1.

By reason of Willie minding to be present at the triall, which, for the concourse of spectators, demanded his earlie attendance, he committed the care of me, with Bess, to Dancey, Bess’s husband, who got us places to see father on his way from the Tower to Westminster Hall.  We coulde not come at him for the crowd, but clambered on a bench to gaze our very hearts away after him as he went by, sallow, thin, grey-haired, yet in mien not a whit cast down.  His face was calm but grave, but just as he passed he caught the eye of some one in the crowd, and smiled in his old frank way; then glanced up towards the windows with the bright look he hath so oft caste up to me at my casement, but saw us not; perchance soe ’twas best.

...Will telleth me the indictment was the longest ever heard:  on four counts.  First, his opinion concerning the king’s marriage.  Second, his writing sundrie letters to the Bishop of Rochester, counselling him to hold out.  Third, refusing to acknowledge his grace’s supremacy.  Fourth, his positive deniall of it, and thereby willing to deprive the king of his dignity and title.

They could not make good their accusation.  ’Twas onlie on the last count he could be made out a traitor, and proof of’t had they none.  He shoulde have been acquitted out of hand, but his bitter enemy, my Lord Chancellor, called on him for his defence, whereat a general murmur ran through the court.

He began, but a moment’s weakness of the body overcame him and he was accorded a seat.  He then proceeded to avow his having always opposed the king’s marriage to his grace himself, deeming it rather treachery to have withholden his opinion when solicited.  Touching the supremacy he held there could be no treachery in holding his peace, God only being cognizant of our thoughts.