Heresy

"You think it was by her own hand?" Sidney asked, his eyes dramatically wide.

"I suppose I will never know."

I fell silent then, and gazed out across the water.

"Well, sorry about that," Sidney said after a few moments, clapping me on the back in that matter-of-fact way the English have, "but still-the women of King Henri's court must have provided you with plenty of distractions, eh?"

I regarded him for a moment, wondering if the English nobility really did have as little fine feeling as they pretended, or if they had developed this ma

"Oh yes, the women there were beautiful, certainly, and happy enough to offer their attentions at first, but I found them sadly lacking in worthwhile conversation," I said, forcing a smile. "And they found me sadly lacking in fortune and titles for any serious liaison."

"Well, there you are, Bruno-you are destined for disappointment if you seek out women for their conversation." Sidney shook his head briefly, as if the idea were absurd. "Take my advice-sharpen your wits in the company of men, and look to women only for life's softer comforts." He winked broadly and gri

"Now I must oversee the arrangements or we shall never be on our way, and we are to dine at the palace of Windsor this evening so we need to make good progress. They say there will be a storm tonight. The queen will not be present, naturally," he said, noting my raised eyebrows. "I'm afraid the responsibility of entertaining the palatine is ours alone, Bruno, until we reach Oxford. Steel yourself and pray to that universal soul of yours for fortitude."

"I WOULD NOT be the one to boast, but my friends do consider me to be something of a poet, Sir Philip," the palatine Laski was saying in his high-pitched voice, which always sounded as if he was airing a grievance, as our boat approached Hampton Court. "I had in mind that if we tire of the disputations at the university"-here he cast a pointed glance at me-"you and I might devote some of our stay in Oxford to reading each other's poetry and advising on it, as one so

"Then we must include Bruno in our parley," Sidney said, flashing me a conspiratorial grin, "for in addition to his learned books, he has written a comic drama in verse for the stage, have you not, Bruno? What was it called?"

"The Torchbearers," I muttered, and turned back to contemplate the view. I had dedicated the play to Morgana and it was always associated with memories of her.

"I have not heard of it," said the palatine dismissively.

Before our party had even reached Richmond, I found myself in complete agreement with my patron, King Henri III of France: the palatine Laski was unbearable. Fat and red-faced, he had a wholly misplaced regard for his own importance and a great love of the sound of his own voice. For all his fine clothes and airs, he was clearly not well acquainted with the bathhouse, and under that warm sun a fierce stink came off him, which at close quarters, mingled with the vapours from the brown Thames, was distracting me from what should have been an entertaining journey.

We had launched from the wharf at Winchester House with a great fanfare of trumpets; a boat filled with musicians had been charged to keep pace with us, so that the palatine's endless monologue was accompanied by the twitterings and chirpings of the flute players to our right. To add to my discomfort, the flowers with which the barge had been so generously bedecked were making me sneeze. I sank back into the silk cushions, trying to concentrate on the rhythmic splashing of the oars as we glided at a stately pace through the city, smaller boats making way on either side while their occupants, recognising the royal barge, respectfully doffed their caps and stared as we passed. For my part, I had almost succeeded in reducing the palatine's babble to a background drone as I concentrated on the sights, and would have been content to enjoy the gentle green and wooded landscape on the banks as we left the city behind, but Sidney was determined to amuse himself by baiting the Pole and wanted my collaboration.

"Behold, the great palace of Hampton Court, which once belonged to our queen's father's favourite, Cardinal Wolsey," he said, gesturing grandly toward the bank as we drew close to the imposing red-brick walls. "Not that he enjoyed it for long-such is the caprice of princes. But it seems the queen holds you in great esteem, Laski, to judge by the care she has taken over your visit."

The palatine simpered unattractively. "Well, that is not for me to say, of course, but I think it is well-known by now at the English court that the palatine Laski is granted the very best of Her Majesty's hospitality."

"And now that she will not have the Duke of Anjou, I wonder whether we her subjects may begin to speculate about an alliance with Poland?" Sidney went on mischievously.

The palatine pressed the tips of his stubby fingers together as if in prayer and pursed his moist lips, his little piggy eyes shining with self-congratulating pleasure.

"Such things are not for me to say, but I have noticed in the course of my stay at court that the queen did pay me certain special attentions, shall we say? Naturally she is modest, but I think men of the world such as you and I, Sir Philip, who have not been shut up in a cloister, can always tell when a woman looks at us with a woman's wants, can we not?"

I snorted with incredulity then, and had to disguise it as a sneezing fit. The minstrels finished yet another insufferably jaunty folk song and turned to a more melancholic tune, allowing me to lapse into reflective silence as the fields and woods slid by and the river became narrower and less noisome. Clouds bunched overhead, mirrored in the stretch of water before us, and the heat began to feel thick in my nostrils; it seemed Sidney had been right about the coming storm.

"In any case, Sir Philip, I have taken the liberty of composing a so

"You had much better ask Bruno," Sidney said carelessly, trailing his hand in the water. "His countrymen invented the form. Is that not so, Bruno?"

I sent him a murderous look and allowed my thoughts to drift to the horizon as the palatine began his droning recital.

IF ANYONE HAD predicted, during those days when I begged my way from city to city up the length of the Italian peninsula, snatching teaching jobs when I could find them and living in the roadside i