The Merry Wives of Henry VIII: A Tudor Spoof Collection by Nonny Ann

Author:Nonny, Ann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MadeGlobal Publishing
Published: 2012-08-18T16:00:00+00:00

The Trial - A Report

Ladies and gentlemen, we are all gathered here, within the Tower confines, to bare witness to the trial of the century. I don't know about everyone else but I'm wearing my pin saying 'Henry VIII rules OK', which I bought on the way in. The crowd is restless as they await the arrival of the jury. Lady Rochford has put her hood on the floor and is collecting for her widowhood by riding a tricycle while juggling with fire. Thomas Boleyn is running the lottery entitled, 'Live or Die the Tudor Way'. Will Somers is selling popcorn, but keeps spilling it as he cartwheels round the hall.

Here comes the jury. The Duke of Norfolk is floating in on his usual puff of black smoke and smelling of sulphur, followed by Master Cromwell who is carrying a scythe and wearing a black hooded cloak with 'Guilty' emblazoned on the back in gold thread.

I've just spotted the executioner sharpening his axe and practising his swing. The question we must ask ourselves is whether these subtle signs bode ill for the accused. I heard that only yesterday the Lord Rochford had his neck measured, supposedly for a new jacket, but we all have our suspicions, including the Lord Rochford who apparently threw a chair at the alleged tailor.

The jury are entering the hall. Some of them look sombre with the weight of their responsibility. Others are dancing an Irish jig and can be heard singing, 'We're in the Money'. They take their seats and a hush descends as we await the arrival of the first accused.

Master Kingston, looking grave, enters the hall; behind him walks the queen. Master Holbein is sat in the front row painting the queen's portrait as fast as his little hands can manage. I've no doubt that this portrait will be what you will all be waking up to in the morning as you partake of your pints of breakfast ale.

The queen takes her seat. Ladies and gentlemen you could hear a pin drop. The only sound to be heard is from Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland as he clutches at his chest and gasps for breath. He seems to have turned purple and be mouthing something like, "Don't just sit there, help me". Everyone ignores him as Norfolk rises and hovers three inches above the floor. You could cut the stench of rotten eggs in the air with a knife.

He puts the charges to the accused while Master Cromwell pokes his tongue out at the queen in a very undignified manner. A lip reader has informed me that he's mouthing, "nah, nah, nah, nah, nahhhh."

The queen, as we expected, pleads 'not guilty.' The prosecution commences its case and the queen answers every question with a negative. The defence is excellent, but I'm surprised that the jury are taking it all in. Three at the back are playing tiddly winks, two appear to have fallen asleep and one at the front seems to be wearing earplugs.

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