prediction here written on top of Corinthians: II which contains one foot dragging its toe
in our past, and one foot kicking into our possible future. Let me read it to you:
Suprême au pape lui-mme, c‟est le huitime,
Ceux qui protestent sont traités comme traîtres et assassiné.
Bouffi d‟orgueil, il s‟est mari avec la crme,
Des belles femmes: une morte, une survécu, deux divorcées, deux décapitées
Supreme to the pope himself, he is the eighth,
Those who protest are murdered and treated as traitors.
Fat with pride, he married the cream of the crop,
Beautiful women: one died, one survived, two divorced, two beheaded
―The eighth‖ is obviously a reference to Henry VIII of England. ―Supreme to the
pope himself‖ is straightforward. We all know that Henry declared himself to be
supreme to the pope. I am sure both of you are aware of the Act of Supremacy of 1534
and the Treasons Act of 1534, passed some four years ago. Although we would not say it
publicly, as frank men standing on a porch, I think we can all agree amongst ourselves
that ‗fat with pride‘ is a moniker which some would give Henry. But note the last line,
referencing six wives. Henry has only had three wives that I know of: Catherine of
Aragon, Anne Boleyn, and Jane Seymour. Henry divorced Catherine and beheaded Anne
Boleyn. Nothing to date has happened with Jane Seymour. I think all we need to do to
verify the accuracy and reliability of these quatrains is to wait and see what happens to
the wives of King Henry VIII!‖
―Why, that is fascinating!‖ exclaimed the Archbishop. ―You are exactly right!‖
Nostradamus was not as jubilant at Scaliger‘s observation as the Archbishop.
Frankly, he was somewhat peeved that these men failed to understand that Nostradamus
was a man of science, with innate gifts plainly recognized by whomever he met. Why
were these men falling all over themselves about the prattling of a twelve year-old girl?
Well, he would keep this Bible hidden, lest others start believing that his true psychic
gifts came from his wife. If that happened, he would become the laughing stock of
―I agree, it is most interesting,‖ said Nostradamus as fair-mindedly as he could. ―I
shall safeguard the Bible, and we shall see what happens to Henry.‖ Nostradamus raised
his glass, trying to muster up cheeriness: ―To the future wives of Henry VIII-- may they
be prepared to lose their head for love!‖
The three men laughed and drained their wine glasses.
―Now, Michel, pass me that wine bottle and let me explain to you both again why
Vergil is so much better than Homer.‖
The three men laughed and Nostradamus groaned. He hated Vergil. Nostradamus
tucked Henriette‘s Bible into his jacket for another day.