Shortly after the king's arrival at Greenwich, Cromwell, the promoter of this unfortunate affair, presented himself to his majesty, not without fear, and inquired how he liked the lady Anne. The king replied,--'Nothing so well as she was spoken of. Had I known as much before as I do now, she should not have come within this realm.' Then, with a deep sigh, he exclaimed, 'What remedy?'[310] 'I know none,' said Cromwell, 'and I am very sorry therefor.' The agents of the king had given proof neither of intelligence nor of integrity in the matter. Hutton, who had written to Cromwell that the princess was not beautiful, and Southampton, who had had a good view of her at Calais, had both spoken to the king only of her beauty. On the following day Anne arrived at Greenwich; the king conducted her to the apartment assigned to her, and then retired to his own very melancholy and in an ill humor. Cromwell again presented himself. 'My lord,' said the king, 'say what they will, she is nothing so fair as she hath been reported ... howbeit, she is well and seemly.' 'By my faith, sir,' replied Cromwell, 'ye say truth; but I think she has a queenly manner.' 'Call together the council,' said Henry. The princess made her entry into London in great pomp, and appeared at the palace. The court had heard of Henry's disappointment and was in consternation. 'Our king,' they said, 'could never marry such a queen.' In default of speech, music would have been a means of communication; it speaks and moves. Henry and his courtiers were passionately fond of it; but Anne did not know a single note. She knew nothing but the ordinary occupations of women. In vain did Cromwell venture to say to his master that she had, nevertheless, a portly and fine person. Henry's only thought was how to get rid of her. The marriage ceremony was deferred for a few days. The council took into consideration the question whether certain projects of union between Anne and the son of the duke of Lorraine did not form an obstacle to her marriage with Henry. But they found here no adequate ground of objection. 'I am not well treated,' the king said to Cromwell. Many were afraid of a rupture. The divorce between Henry and Catherine, the cruelty with which he had treated the innocent Anne Boleyn, had already given rise to so much discontent in Europe that people dreaded a fresh outbreak. The cup was bitter, but he must drink it. The 6th of January was positively fixed for the fatal nuptials. The king was heard the day before murmuring in a low tone with an accent of despair,--'It must be; it must be,' and presently after, 'I will put my neck under the yoke.' He determined to live in a becoming way with the queen. An insuperable antipathy filled his heart, but courteous words were on his lips. In the morning the king said to Cromwell,--'If it were not for the great preparations that my states and people have made for her, and for fear