Interview with the Executioner

The Throckmorton Plot

'A very good morning to you, my good lord,

I trust you've been sleeping exceedingly well,

The lodgings are cramped at this time of the year,

Not what you're used to

But now that you're here,

I'll be your host 'til your conscience is clear.'

 

Sir Francis Throckmorton, in fear for his life,

Stumbled and strained at the chains in his mind,

Eyes black and troubled, a stubble, sore knees,

He'd spent his last night

In the cell, 'Little Ease,'

But two foot by three foot, and full of disease.

 

Courteous ever, the Rackmaster Norton

Was eager to show off his gadgets and gears,

'These are my children, my lovers, my life,

Caress you and press you,

Impale you in strife,

Persuade you to talk, or distract your poor wife.'

 

Norton was charming, he stroked the Rack pulleys,

He rattled the chains that were spattered with blood,

He showed him the brazier, coals from Kingstanding

The cat o nine tails

And the irons for the branding,

The thumbekins to cripple the right and left hand in.

 

'Mankind's inventions to loosen the tongue;

Here the skull crusher, the cords for garroting

The griddle to roast the pale flesh from your bones,

Admit to your treason

There's no reason known,

Why you should submit to this treatment alone.'

 

Throckmorton paled, but he steadied his tongue,

'I have no comrades, I act on my own.'

Norton had smiled and then burst into laughter,

So, my good lord

It's the Rack or the slaughter,

But first you'll embrace my Lord Exeter's Daughter.

 

'I mind when the Jesuit Bryant was here,

Strapped to the rack as the tumblers turned…'

Norton would share what he thought a good jest,

'He came a foot longer

Than God sent him blest,

I stretched and I stretched him until he confess'd!'

 

Throckmorton felt all his sinews and bones

Tearing and grinding at sockets and veins,

Thirty two minutes they stretched to the limits,

Still he kept silent

He would not complain,

They rested him then, and petitioned the Queen.

 

'Traitors must speak, must be put to the 'pains',

Please be as gentle as treason deserves!'

Thus they attached all the chains and the locks,

Stretched the poor wretch

To the ends of the stops, for

The names of the friends of the Queen of the Scots.

 

That was enough for Sir Frances Throckmorton,

Anything, merely to make the pain stop,

He sat by the Rack, such a sad man and broken,

Gave them Mendoza

And Paget, and Owen,

Then waited for Tyburn, the rope and the drop.

 

'England's a tragic, dishonourable place,

The river is foul, and the Tower a disgrace;

But I have such torture to make the heart race…'

Said Thomas Norton

Who finished Throckmorton,

Then went back to Rack someone else in his place.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

History is riddled with ugliness - the ugliness of man towards mankind. Your words are as dark as a cellar, as piercing as a sword, and as anguished as those poor souls who lost their battles of will against the devices of torture.

Regarding a previous review ... rhyme need not be perfect in order to work perfectly. I found that your poem flows as smoothly as a river. Whatever stones that may lie within are polished jewels within their own right.

Your work is magnificent!

Linda Marie Van Tassell

[Susan S.]

I haven't gotten through the whole thing yet, but I had to stick down my impressions as I go. This is an amazing piece of work! You've really worked to put life into it. I love the piece, so keep that in mind while I talk about areas of improvement, ok?

I've noticed on several lines you don't quite have the rhyme right. A word rhymes from the last stressed syllable onward. So "daughter" and "slaughter" rhyme with each other but neither rhyme with "laughter". Another of those not quite rhymes is "standing", "branding", "stand in" In this case "in" does not sound enough like the other two endings to make it. If you had concatenated them to "standin' " and "brandin' " they would have rhymed, but purists would have looked askance at "standin' " and "stand in". Some rhymes worked well in this piece: "Jest","blest","confess'd" for instance.

I noticed at some point you just dropped the whole rhyming sequence. What happened? If you were having problems coming up with good rhyming words, may I suggest http://rhyme.poetry.com. It's a great relief to be able to find a reference like that!

The phrase, "the Tower a disgrace" has one too many syllables in it. The way you can work around this problem is to take the "a" away and in its place put a colon. Purists may tisk, but tough.

Again let me say that I loved the piece. It had the flavor of the medieval about it. Even the meter you used came from that time. Thanks for the read!

[Monday Parker]

My god you are soo very talented!!! Every piece of your work that read takes my breath away...Great job on this one...So when is your book to be published??? I want a signed copy!!!!

[Leix]

Astounding.
Lane, sent me to read you, her taste impeccable as always
History, the last great frontier of modern poetry

and it rhymes

Bravo!

[EvesDaughter]

:) I feel like a foolish grinning clown :)
all I can do is smile when I read your
work and hope to God I will someday
have just an ounce of the talent you
have. Absolutely superb.

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I am in awe. I am astounded. The subject ... the title held me curious, but to be honest that was all. Frankly this is so well written i could't put it down so to speak. Well done...it is going into my library.