
A.D.
1483. SCENE IN COUNCIL. 6$
is,
we have every reason to believe that the facts are strictly
true;
for there can be no doubt that Sir Thomas More derived
his knowledge of what took place from one who had been an
eye-witness of the whole scene, and who, though he can scarcely
be called an impartial spectator, was undoubtedly a statesman
of high integrity. Still, it is only right to remember that in
connection with this story we have the report of one side
only—the account, that is to say, of Cardinal Morton, at this
time Bishop of Ely. The colouring, therefore, is that of a
partisan, though the facts, no doubt, are those of a truthful
reporter. The substance of the story, however, is as follows:
The protector made his appearance in the council chamber
about nine o'clock. His manner was gracious; he blamed his
own inactivity for not having been present earlier, and com-
menced the day pleasantly by remarking to Bishop Morton,
' My lord, you have very good strawberries in your garden at
Holborn
:
I pray you let us have a mess of them.' He then
opened the business of the council, and having engaged the
lords in conversation, he requested their indulgence for a
temporary absence, and withdrew. But between ten and
eleven o'clock he returned with an altered countenance, and
as he took his seat, looked upon the assembled councillors
with an angry frown, and bit his lips. The council marked
the change, in silent amazement. After a pause, he asked
suddenly what punishment they deserved who had conspired
against the life of one so nearly related to the king as
himself,,
who was, besides, entrusted with the government of the realm?
The council was confounded. Hastings, presuming on his
familiarity with the protector, replied that they deserved the
punishment of traitors. ' That sorceress, my brother's wife,'
cried Richard,' and others with her—see how they have wasted
my body by their sorcery and witchcraft!' And, as he spoke,
he bared his left arm and showed it to the council, shrunk and
withered, as, our author says, it had always been.
Sir Thomas More, it must be observed, says nothing in his
G. 5