“The Princess, understanding of late that the King intended she should remove, and accompany the Bastard, sent to me three times in less than twenty-four hours to know what to do. I wrote back to her each time, resolving her scruples, that even if she did obey the King without opposition or protestation, all that the King desired in this respect could do no prejudice to the protestations already made. Nevertheless, I thought that to prevent her father and his lady imagining she was worn out, and conquered by ill-treatment, she should speak boldly, and with her accustomed modesty, but not go to the extremity of allowing herself to be taken by force, as on the former occasion. I wrote to her at full length what she ought to say; not that it was necessary, considering her good sense, but because she desired me. She played her part so well, that the Comptroller promised her she should not go after the other. Nevertheless, on her coming to the first door of the lodging, there was the litter of the Bastard, and the Princess was compelled to go out after her, the Comptroller allowing her, as soon as she was mounted, to go before or after, as she pleased; on which account, she suddenly pushed forward, and arrived at Greenwich about an hour before the Bastard. When she came to enter the barge, she took care to secure the most honourable place. I had intimated to her that I would go to Greenwich to see her pass; and she sent to beg me to do so, as earnestly as she could. I was there accordingly in disguise, and it was a great pleasure to see such excellent beauty, accompanied by heroic bearing, which all the more increased the pity to see her so treated.”[127] A little later Chapuys, continuing his narrative, says:—