When all was ready, the queen entered the hall with her canopy borne over her, washed her hands in the perfumed water poured over them by Sir Thomas Wyatt, and took her seat at the table, the Countesses of Oxford and Worcester standing on either side of her chair, while two gentlewomen sat at her feet. All the tables in the hall were beautifully laid and tastefully decorated, and there was music all through the meal. The king took no part in this ceremony at all, but remained shut up in the cloister of St. Stephen's a part of the abbey, whence he could overlook all the proceedings without being seen himself. During the dinner the Duke of Suffolk and Lord William Howard rode up and down the hall, laughing and chatting with the lords and ladies, and when it was over commanded them to remain in their places until the queen had washed her hands. She arose and stood in the middle of the hall, while the Earl of Sussex brought her some sweetmeats. Then the lord-mayor brought her a golden cup filled with wine. After she had drunk, she presented him the cup and walked towards the door of her room under her canopy. Before disappearing, she turned and presented the gold bells, canopy, and all its decorations to the barons who had carried it. On the following day there were jousts before the king and queen in the tilt-yard. But the pope did not approve of this second marriage, and so expelled the royal couple from the church; and Henry's cousin Cardinal Pole, wrote him letters of reproach, calling Anne "Jezebel," "Sorceress," and many other horrible names. Nevertheless, the king treated her with all the dignity of her station, and had {396}her initial A joined with his own on all the gold and silver coins that were struck after their marriage. Henry VIII. was the first and last monarch of England who ever paid his wife that compliment. Sir Thomas More was one of Anne's special enemies, because he remained true in his friendship for Queen Katherine to the day of her death. When his daughter visited him in the Tower he asked her "how Queen Anne did?" "Never better," she replied: "there is nothing else at court but dancing and sporting." "Never better!" said he, "alas! Meg, alas! it pitieth me to think into what misery, poor soul, she will shortly come. These dances of hers will prove such dances that she will spurn our heads off like foot-balls, but it will not be long ere her head will dance the like dance." Her tragical end proves the truth of that poet's prophetic words. When that great and good man was executed, the announcement of it was made to Henry while he happened to be playing cards with Anne. "Thou art the cause of this man's death," he cried, looking at her angrily, and rising from the table. He then shut himself up in his room, deeply grieved.