Greenwich, and denounced, in uncompromising terms, the most terrible judgments on them both. He reminded them of the story of Ahab, and cried out, "Even where the dogs licked the blood of Naboth, shall they lick the blood of Jezebel." He told Henry that, like the King of Israel of old, he had got his lying prophets to prophecy what he willed: "but," continued he, "I am Micheas (Micaiah), whom thou wilt hate because I must tell thee truly that this marriage is unlawful; and I know I shall eat the bread of affliction and drink the waters of sorrow; yet, because our Lord hath put it into my mouth, I must speak of it."
Henry, for a wonder, restrained himself, and preferred to set one of his chaplains to answer the friar. Probably the knowledge that the general opinion was that of the friar might induce Henry to this course, so different to his conduct in after years. The next Sunday, being the 8th of May, Dr. Curwen preached in the same place, and, after endeavouring to answer his arguments, made a furious attack on the friar himself, calling him a dog, a slanderer, a base, beggarly friar, a rebel and traitor. He denounced him as a foul slanderer of persons in authority and asserted that, so far from the king's marriage being an offence to God or man, it was a measure both highly desirable and highly commendable, as that which was to establish a righteous royal seed for ever; and then, supposing that his eloquence had completely defeated and put to flight the friar, he challenged him by name, shouting, "I speak to thee, Peyto, that makest thyself Micheas, that thou mayest speak evil of king; but now thou art not to be found, being fled for fear and shame, as being unable to answer my arguments."
But there came an answer—though not from Peyto—which was not greatly to the credit or the foresight of the preacher, for in the rood-loft, one Elstow, a friar of the same house as Peyto, stood up, and in a loud and undaunted manner said, "Good sir, you know well enough that Father Peyto, as he was commanded, is gone to a provincial council holden at Canterbury, and is not fled from any fear of you, but to-morrow will return again. And meantime, here am I, another Micheas, ready to lay down my life to prove all those things true which he hath taught out of the Holy Scriptures; and to this combat I challenge thee before God and all equal judges; even unto thee, Curwen, I say it, which art one of the four hundred prophets into whom the spirit of lying is entered, and seekest by adultery to establish succession; betraying the king into endless perdition, more for thine own vain-glory and hope of promotion than for the discharge of thy clogged conscience, and the king's salvation." The friar went on in the same strain, growing bolder and bolder, and hurling the most awful denunciations at the head of the king, and none could bring him to silence, till Henry, in a voice of thunder, commanded him to be still. The king did not pass this over. The two friars the next day were summoned before the council, and sternly rebuked and threatened. The Earl of Essex told them they deserved to be put into sacks and thrown into the Thames. "Threaten those things," said Elstow, smiling, "to the rich and dainty folk, which are clothed in purple and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day, and have their chiefest hope in this world; but we heed them not—nay, we are joyful that for the discharge of our duties we are driven hence; and, thanks to God, we know the way to heaven to be as ready by water as by land, and therefore care not which way we go." The end of this plain speaking was, that the friars, with all their order, were soon after banished; and Curwen, as Friar Elstow had prophesied, was promoted to the episcopal bench.
Yet no complaints of the clergy or the people could prevent the ruthless king wringing the heart of his forsaken wife, by demands of her renunciation of all title to royalty. On the 3rd of July Lord Mountjoy, who had formerly been her page, waited on her from the king to announce to her the completion of the divorce, and to warn her to take a lower style and address than that of queen. Catherine was living quietly at Ampthill, and the martyrdom through which she had lately been made to pass had shaken her health severely. It was some days before she could see the messenger, and when she did she was still lying sick on her couch, and suffering from a thorn which by some accident she had run into her foot. She had a number of her servants assembled to hear what was said, and she then demanded whether the message were in writing or was to be delivered by word of mouth. Lord Mountjoy said he had both a verbal and a written command, but when he began to address her as the Princess of Wales, she stopped him, and let him know that she was not princess dowager, but the queen, and withal the king's true wife; had been crowned and anointed queen, and by the king had had lawful issue; had committed no crime by which real forfeiture of her rank and estate could come, but that the estate and name of queen she would vindicate, challenge, and maintain during her lifetime.
Mountjoy begged to remind her that she had not only been divorced but that this divorce was confirmed by the Act of Parliament in both Houses, and that the Lady Anne had also been anointed and crowned Queen of England, which act was also confirmed by the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commoners of the realm; but Catherine, with undaunted spirit, repudiated all such proceedings, as effected by bribery and unfair means, declaring that neither universities, convocations, nor parliaments had power to divorce, but the Court of Rome alone, to which she still appealed. Mountjoy then represented to her that her obstinacy might occasion popular commotions in the kingdom, to which she replied that she should much regret that; she trusted there would be no dissensions in the realm on her account, which she never contemplated, nor ever would; but she would never consent to injure her daughter's rights and the health of her own soul by compliance; and if she should be so unfortunate as to forfeit the favour of the people, still, she trusted to go to heaven "cum fama et infama," for it was not for the favour of the people, nor yet for any trouble or adversity that might be devised for her, that she would lose the favour of God. When Mountjoy showed her the report which he had drawn up of the interview, she called for pen and ink, and carefully struck out the words princess-dowager wherever they occurred. She also treated the whole divorce as a mere farce, being pronounced in the king's own realm, by "a man of the king's own making," Cranmer, whom she asserted to be a person by no means impartial.
