I May Have Been A Sophomore, but I’m Shakespeare too
I wrote this for my history class and I just so happen to be a fan of the Real Housewives of Atlanta .
Enjoy :)
His Story
It was not yet noon when I was called into the kitchen for my briefing. I had only been awarded my job as the royal accountant a day prior and, might I add, it was an exhilarating time indeed.
“Kenneth! Beckon to the kitchen at once!” Walter called after me. Voiding myself of anything the king may find inadequate, I made way toward my destination. As I ventured fourth, Mrs. Bradley, one of the female cooks, provided me with a selection of veal with a smirk. I was taken aback, considering our difference in age and the horrid smell of the uncooked cuisine.
“You called, sir?” I said, entering into the kitchen. “Yes. We are all within a state of emergency, Kenneth. There is a secret wedding to be held here at half past 4 o’ clock and the king demands the finest of dinners.” Walter conveyed to me. “Why must I be here, sir? “ I questioned. “There must be some trading affairs that I need to tend to.” Walter looked at me in utter disbelief.
“How dare you question my authority?” Walter bellowed. “I find it repulsively disrespectful when I am challenged by a lesser person when I am only doing my job. Perhaps we do not wish for your services here any longer.”
“Of course not, sir. I give you my sincerest apologies.” I spoke quickly. “Well, if you must know,” Walter continued. “The cooks have the day off. King Henry insisted they do so in the wake of the death of their loved ones. I am sure you have heard of the horrendous news of the murder within the Boyardee family?” He said as he took aprons off of the wall and handed one off to me.
(This part was an optional joke to put in. I love ravioli)
“I regret to say that I do not recall such events, sir.” I reported, cautiously keeping distance from my supervisor. “Well, no matter. Now, let’s chop some chives! It’s the King’s favorite.” Grabbing a knife and cutting block, I obtained a bushel of chives and started to chop.
“To whom is the King marrying, sir?” I asked, knowing my mother would want all of the royal gossip. “Number 4.” Walter mumbled under his breath. I could not believe my own ears! There has always been talk of King Henry VIII having multiple wives, but I refused to hear it. “So the accusations are true? King Henry VIII has wed before?” I questioned, grabbing pans to sauté the onions. “Oh yes. Many times in the past. King Henry VIII needed an heir to the throne & his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, was not able to bear any more children.”
“Is that why he married Anne Boleyn? Was she not executed?” I investigated. Walter stopped and looked me directly in my eyes. “What I am about to tell you must never be spoken about ever again. If it is foretold to me that this precious information was repeated, you will be asked to leave the castle at once and never return. Is that understood, Kenneth?” He spoke sternly. “Yes. I understand, sir.” I stumbled.
“Very well then. It all started with Catherine of Aragon. Since she was unable to bear children, King Henry VIII wanted a divorce.” Walter explained. “Did the king receive his divorce?” I wondered. “Unfortunately, not. At the time, the Pope was in a very odd situation. It was around the time that Martin Luther pinned his opinions about the Roman Catholic Church on its doors.The ’95 Thesis’ or so they call it. Citizens caught
on and began to question Pope Clement VII & his authority in the church. Since Catherine is the aunt of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, the pope did not want to aggravate him nor former Pope Leo X, whom married Catherine and Henry, by challenging his authority. King Henry VIII then asked for an annulment instead of a divorce. Still, Pope Clement VII still would not grant the king with his annulment. So, King Henry VIII took matters into his own hands.” Walter explained to me.
“What did he do, sir?” I asked, setting out plates. “Well I can tell you he worked much faster than you, boy. Garnish those plates quickly. It is almost 1 o’ clock and the king refuses to wait for supper.”
“Of course. I apologize, sir.” I stated, reaching for a variety of herbs. I truly wanted to listen to the rest of King Henry VIII’s story. “The king decided to make a law. A law that would split the Holy Roman Catholic Church forever.”
“What was the law, sir?” At this point, I became so intrigued with this tale, I had completely forgotten about the dinner we were preparing. The onions started to burn and the chives have fallen from the cutting block. The dinner was becoming a disaster! Although, it was not as disastrous as King Henry VIII’s love life. “Kenneth, the first rule of cooking is to not ruin it! Were you raised in a barn?!” Walter shouted at me. I held back my tongue. I was actually raised on a farm & I very much enjoyed spending time with the animals. So, yes, I was indeed raised in a barn.
“I apologize, sir. I am not as culinary talented as you. Shall I go? I do not wish to sabotage the meal any longer.” I said, hoping that he would not send me away, for I wanted to be foretold of this special law. “I do understand, young lad. I was in your place at one point. Please, continue to help me. It is of no ones intent to fluster the king on his special day.” Said Walter sarcastically. “Begin to tenderize the meat as I continue the journey through the king’s past.” “As you wish, sir.” I began my task as Walter continued his tale. “In summary, the king took the pope’s authority. He then shared power within the church with Parliament, whom legalized Henry’s divorce from Catherine. After his first divorce, there were many after. Anne Boyle was married to the king, yet they did not enjoy their time together. She was also unable to bear the king a heir. Instead of being banished, she was executed. His most recent wife, Jane Seymour, God rest her soul, was finally able to give King Henry a heir.” Walter babbled on. “Unfortunately, as you know, she died due to complications of childbirth.”
In this midst of our discussion, we managed to finish making the king’s dinner and successfully garnished the plates. “Wow. I am amazed at the work we have accomplished. If it were my decision, I'd give you an extra 15 shillings!” Walter chuckled. “If you don’t mind, Kenneth, help me set the table.” As I seized the table cloth, Walter stopped me. “Forgive me. Please, spend the rest of the day tending to your own needs. You've done enough work for today.” He pat me on the back. “Thank you, sir. I wish you a good day.” I stated, taking off my apron and hanging it on the wall. As I started to exit the kitchen, Walter called after me. “Kenneth, wait!” “What is the matter, sir?” I questioned. “Her name is Anne. Anne of Cleves.” He said with a cheeky grin. I ran to my personal chambers and quickly packed a bag. Mother has to hear all about this!
