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as a wife, to alleviate, of course, the envy of the crime committed, and to confirm the kingdom by that bond of affinity, because she, being the only heiress of the royal line, seemed by legitimate right to bring the dotal kingdom. But as the girl refused the incestuous marriage and drew it out to the solemn day, Richard perished, pierced in battle by the gods, the avengers of crimes, and Henry, the victor, crowned with that golden crown which a soldier had pulled from the helmet of the fallen Richard, entered London. Nothing was more important to him than to celebrate the marriage with Elizabeth, which was most welcome to gods and men alike. For by that marriage the deadly names of the factions were removed. Two families of royal blood, York and Lancaster—called by the ancestral insignia of the red and white rose—had split the nobility into opposing parties; it seemed opportune that York was then joined with Lancaster, from which Henry came, as the rights of both families were merged into one by that marriage.
At last, Henry suppressed the civil wars, and he captured in battle the pseudo-Edward—who, having deceived the people with a false likeness, had crossed into Wales with the forces of the Irish and the Germans. Not long after, another Edward—the nephew of King Edward through his brother George, Duke of Clarence, whom Richard had handed over to prison in London and whom he himself, once King, had kept guarded in the same way for some time, so that he would not cause a longing for himself among those desirous of new things—was struck by the axe, even though he was still a beardless youth; humanity, of course, was overcome by the danger, because it seemed the royal spirit could not be untied from fear or the hope of a favoring people be broken in any other way.
And so, the people transferred the kingdom with the greatest eagerness to Henry VIII, who was possessed of the cumulative right of both his mother’s and father’s lineage. Henry, his father, had arranged in marriage for him Catherine, the daughter of Ferdinand, King of Spain, who had recently been married to Arthur, his older brother, who had died of disease. For the man, being exceptionally prudent, thought that the girl, the daughter of so great a King and of most chosen character, ought to be kept as a pledge of the treaty and friendship, because Arthur, having been tried by a wasting disease during the wedding days, was believed not to have consummated the marriage; and Pope Julius had granted this—a thing allowed to kings alone—for the dignity of the offspring according to sacred laws, from which later, as if from a pestilential origin (as we shall soon say), the inconveniences of both scorned religion and nefarious cruelty flowed through the repudiation and, finally, the fatal nuptials.
But all of Britain is divided into two parts, by the River Tweed, which, according to some, was once the Vedra (as we have said), separating Scotland from England. This contains various prefectures and domains, the most extensive of which are considered to be: Kent, which looks across toward the continent of Gaul; Cornwall, which is turned toward the Armorican shore; likewise Wales, which is closest to Ireland with the strait of the Ocean intervening; and finally Northland Northumberland, which touches the borders of Scotland from the North and is named from the Northern wind in the Germanic appellation. Kent, having retained its ancient name, flourishes with herds and grain fields and the talent of its men. In it is Canterbury, a metropolis, memorable for its primary Archbishopric and the tomb of the divine martyr Thomas, distant twelve miles from the sea, where the town of Dover—anciently Daruernum—is celebrated for its high fortress and port, since the crossing from Calais in Gaul is shortest to this place. But there are not wanting those who think Canterbury, from ancient literary monuments, was Dorovernum. Kent is bounded by the River Thames and from its mouth by the sea that surrounds it up to the port of Rye, called "New" by Ptolemy, which is followed in the same stretch of the coast by Antona, called the "Great Port" by the ancients. This is formed by the Isle of Wight, celebrated by Cornelius Tacitus, populous and most abundant in rabbits. The people of Wight, exempt and free, and happier than the others in this one thing, most wittily glory