SLOOP. He’s torturing a Protestant in his basement. He insisted I see. Took me down there. He’s got his very own private dungeon! And was very pleased with a new rack he’s had sent from Holland. It’s portable.

SIMPKIN. A portable rack. Very handy. You’re travelling, you’re at an inn, a man begins to annoy you…

SLOOP. The Prot was on the machine. It’s called the Dutchman’s Daughter. It sort of stretches you and at the same time folds you up.

SIMPKIN. Yes, that would sort out your theological views…

SLOOP. I mean, I’ve been to executions for a day out with the wife, hangings and brandings, but this… In that small room, this was… His gut had split. Down his side. And he was screaming.

SIMPKIN. Not surprising…

SLOOP. No, you don’t get it. He was screaming the name of our Lord.

They look at each other.

What is it about religion?

SIMPKIN. Ask questions like that and you’re on the way to the rack yourself.

Another part of the stage. SLOOP and SIMPKIN notice LADY ROCHFORD and the excitement over the book.

ROCHFORD. All right. All right. (Hands the book to JANE.) But Lady Anne will expect me to return it by this evening. Keep it close.

JANE. We will, My Lady.

Exit LADY ROCHFORD.

JANE and CELIA huddle over the book.

CELIA. Oh. Look what it says there, about His Holiness the Pope. Lady Anne is reading this?

JANE. Let’s give it back, now…

But SLOOP and SIMPKIN waylay them.

SIMPKIN. And what are we reading that’s so exciting, my ladies?

JANE. Nothing, sir…

SLOOP. A sweet nothing?

SIMPKIN. Steamy sweet nothing?

SLOOP. Give it here.

JANE. No!

They are boisterous. SLOOP grabs the book. SIMPKIN pushes JANE off him. CELIA steps back, appalled.

SLOOP opens the book and looks at the title page.

CELIA. I’ve not read it, I haven’t, really, I haven’t… (Holds her face.)

For a moment they are all still.

Then a shocked SLOOP holds the book out to SIMPKIN.

SIMPKIN stares at it then at JANE and CELIA.

LADY ROCHFORD enters, sees the scene and rushes to them.

ROCHFORD. Give me that!

SLOOP. Oh, I think not, My Lady.

ROCHFORD. Give it!

SLOOP. Oooh ooh ooh, no no. I think His Grace the Cardinal must see this.

ROCHFORD. His Grace, why?

SLOOP. He’s had us searching the Court for heretical books, in cupboards, under cushions, floorboards, up chimneys. Oh, he’ll be so merry to see this, he’ll dance up and down, his little feet will go twiddle twiddle. He’s got little feet, you know. For so heavy a man. So frightening a man.

ROCHFORD. Don’t tell His Grace.

SLOOP. No? What would persuade my friend and me not to tell? What favour could you possibly offer us, My Lady Rochford? (Indicating JANE and CELIA.) One of these?

ROCHFORD. Damn you, creature.