The Shadow of the Pomegranate Read Online Free PDF

would put his head on one side. ‘I do not think it would be an impossible task to bring this fellow to Court. In fact I have a certain suspicion that he is with us now.’
    They would look at each other in surprise. ‘But, Sire, if such genius were among us surely we could not be so blind as to be unaware of it. We pray Your Grace, summon him to your presence and command him to continue to delight us.’
    ‘I doubt he would obey my command. He is a rash fellow.’
    ‘Not obey the command of the King!’
    Then he would laugh and say: ‘Now I will play you one ofmy own songs . . .’ And he would play and sing the very same song.
    They would look at each other in amazement – but not too much surprise. They must not run the risk of implying that they did not believe him capable of writing such music. They would quickly allow their bewilderment to fade and then it would be: ‘But how foolish of us. We should have known that none but Your Grace could give us such a song.’
    In a little while the song would be sung throughout the Court. The women would sing it, wistfully, and with yearning in their eyes and voices. There were many women who looked at him with longing now. He knew he had but to beckon and they would be ready for anything he should suggest whether it was a quick tumble in a secluded garden or the honour of being the recognised mistress of a King.
    His mouth was prim. He intended to be virtuous.
    He sang quietly under his breath:
    ‘The best I sue,
    The worst eschew:
    My mind shall be
    Virtue to use;
    Vice to refuse
    I shall use me.’
    He would sing that song, and as he did so he would look at those wantons who tried to lure him into sin.
    Of course, he told himself often, I am a King, and the rules which are made for other men are not for Kings. But I love my wife and she is devoted to me. She will bear me children in time, and to them and to my people will I set an example. Noneshall say of me: There was a lecher. It shall be said: There goes the King who is strong, not only in battle, not only in state councils, but in virtue.
    So his little mouth was prim as he sat playing his lute and practising the song with which, later that day, he would surprise the Court.
    And watching at the window he saw her. She was neither tall nor short, and she was very beautiful. She looked up and saw him, and she dropped a curtsey. There was invitation in the way she lifted her skirts and lowered her eyes. He knew her. Her name was Anne and she was Buckingham’s younger sister who had recently married her second husband. Images of Anne Stafford with her two husbands came into his mind. The primness left his mouth which had slackened a little.
    He bowed his head in acknowledgement of her curtsey and his fingers idly strummed the lute, for he had momentarily forgotten the song.
    Anne Stafford went on her way, but before she had taken more than a few steps she turned to look again at the window.
    This time she smiled. Henry’s lips seemed to be frozen; he did not acknowledge the smile but after she had disappeared he went on thinking of her.
    He found that one of the grooms of the bedchamber was standing beside him. He started and wondered how long the man had been there.
    ‘So ’tis you, Compton,’ he said.
    ‘’Tis I, Your Grace,’ answered Sir William Compton. ‘Come to see if you have work for me to do.’
    Henry strummed on the lute. ‘What work should I have for which I should not call you?’
    ‘I but seek excuses to speak awhile with Your Grace.’
    Henry smiled. There were times when he liked to live informally among his friends; and Sir William Compton, a handsome man some ten years older than himself, amused him. He had been Henry’s page when he was Prince of Wales and they had shared many confidences. When he had become King, Henry had given Compton rapid promotion. He was now chief gentleman of the bedchamber, as well as Groom of the Stole and Constable of Sudeley and Gloucester castles.
    ‘Well,