“I will ask you a question, Sir Thomas,” she said. “If a mouse steals a bit of the bread, does he in fact nibble away the very body of Christ? Is it the bread or the spirit at work in communion?”
Many in the crowd laughed. Sir Thomas’s lips set in a thin line and he shook a finger at her. “Saint Paul commanded that women must ever be silent, never to speak or talk about the Word of God!”
“Nay, this is not what Paul said,” Anne replied, “for I have read the passage. Women are not to speak in church to disrupt the teaching of Christ’s words. I have not hindered the words of Christ! Have you read the Bible, sir? I do not think you understand the charges, so how can you prove my guilt?”
Sir Thomas grabbed the book from Wolsey and slammed it to the ground. No one moved.
“God’s mercy upon me for my weakness!” he screamed. “If I was about my own business, I would see you burnt slowly today. But I am God’s man, and I will offer you your life if you name the women of your sect.”
Rose’s blood rushed through her heartbeat, the violent beating rocking her off her feet. She clung to Margaret, who was staring at her father in a trance.
Anne’s head dropped back down. She said nothing.
“I sentence you to burning!” Sir Thomas screamed again.
Anne’s head lifted, and Rose saw white trails on her face, where a river of tears had washed away black filth. “I have read the Scriptures,” Anne said. “Christ and His apostles ne’er put one soul to death.”
Sir Thomas did not reply. He swept his hand to the back of the crowd. “Bring out Bilney!”
A man was dragged through the center of the crowd, but this man Rose did not know. She was relieved, as if his death would be less terrible to her, and was ashamed. Bilney was a tall, emaciated creature with a shaved head and burn marks evident all over his arms. Some were white and blistered, some red and oozing. He was draped in a thin linen shift that barely covered him down to his thighs.
“He’s been practicing,” a woman whispered near Rose. “Practicing over a candle, willing himself to be strong when he is burnt whole.”
Wolsey stood and took over the prosecution as More collected himself.
“Thomas Bilney, you are charged with reading the work of heretics, this foul book in English. You have read this work and given it to others, including women. Will you repent?”
Bilney did not answer. Rose saw a thin treadle of spit hitting the grass at his feet as his head hung. Whatever tortures had been spared Anne for being a woman were surely visited on this man.
“Do you believe the church has authority to forgive sins?” Wolsey asked. The people strained to hear if there was an answer. Attending a bear-baiting was not nearly such sport. These matches provided great wit. Rose did not know how many in the crowd were swallowing back tears.
“No man, no thing, takes away sin but the blood of Christ.”
The crowd gasped to hear Bilney’s strong reply. There was no strength left in his weak frame for this.
“It is a sin for you to sell forgiveness.”
“You are a heretic. I alone judge all matters of religion in this realm,” Wolsey replied easily, as if he was brushing away a fly. “I am the Pope to you, and I say that the church offers cleansing through repentance and taking of the sacraments.”
“What is the Pope to me? I do not find him in the Scriptures. I only find Jesus,” Bilney answered, holding his head steady as his guards held him up under his arms.
“Oh, we have a true apostle!” Wolsey cried out, and the crowd snickered. “What say ye about Masses for the dead? Do they minister to those departed?”
“Nay! I must consider but one death, and that is Christ’s. No one can help those who are already gone.”
This was the reply Wolsey had hoped for. An angry spirit swept over the people, those who had lost children and lovers and sold everything they had to provide release for them from purgatory.
Rose threw her hand over her mouth, trying to stop herself from being sick. She did not know what Bilney was talking about, and prayed he was not right, and prayed he was not wrong. She had spent her money on a baptism for her baby and not medicine. She had spent what little she had to secure God’s welcome for him into eternity. If Bilney was right, she had let him die, and would God forgive her that? Would the child, or her heart?