In praise of Lady Jane is Sad but true..... a part of the greatest tale never to be told... When the words were written "And we were few who were true in all the seasons of disorder" they referred to a special group of heroes who stood the course in a war of nerves but always had time for a good laugh - Their story follows: jfc

Out in the bramble, on the edge of the property, there grows a wild rose vine thin as cord, but as tough as steel. In high summer, it blooms into a deep blood red blossom we call the Tudor Rose. It winds through the thickest pine and scales the tallest oak.

Every Law Office has its rituals to begin the day. In ours it was listening to the messages on the answering machine which consist in the main, of complaints people leave after hours when no one is around to answer their questions. Today that task fell to the paralegal, Rose Tudor. As the paralegal's nimble fingers pushed down on the tape machine, she turned to me with a smile. A stentorian voice recited scenes from Christopher Marlowe's Dr. Faustus. "It's Lord Doe, your old friend !" Rose Tudor exclaimed.

Rose looked down to watch, with glee, the dated cassette recorder's wheels spinning. 'Lord' Doe's smooth voice was a pleasant break from the usual run of angry and indignant tones who chose to make their ire known when no one could respond.

Rose Tudor pushed the pause button and looked up at me seated at the kitchen table. "Dr. Faustus...," Rose asked, "isn't that the medicaid doctor on Main Street in Central Center Oak that got arrested for billing fraud ?"

I tried not to show a reaction as I thought of the Tudor Rose growing from a wild vine in the bramble ensnaring all that lay on its reach in an entanglement as firm as steel links.

Rose Tudor looked down as the answering machine. "Yesterday," Rose Tudor continued, "Lord' Doe ranted about 'the yellow sun of York.' I didn't see nothin' about that in the paper."

Into the doorway came Estelle, the secretary. Her fading reddish-brown hair bespoke the coming of age. Did it also be speak the coming of wisdom ? "Lady Jane Grey, get off your high throne !" Estelle told Rose Tudor.

The wild Tudor Rose is Center Oak's most endurant creation. It survives summers as brutal as the Texas desert and winters as wild as Baffin Island. On this plot it has persisted clearing of the land. It has outlasted its competitors, natural and artificial, toxic and on-toxic. Left unchecked, it will wrap around any obstacle it can find.

"What ?" Asked Rose Tudor.

"Just an expression," I replied. I glanced toward Estelle to silence her. "When Estelle and I were younger, in school, we had to be able to recite, on command, all the reigning English monarchs from the opening of Parliament in the reign of Edward III to the ascension of Elizabeth II." I signed. "'Lord' Doe's recital yesterday of the soliloquy ... reference to the yellow sun of York... that refers to Richard II, the last King of the York dynasty. 'Yellow Sun' that's the symbol on our state flag."

I thought of the bramble on the edge of the property. The thin runners of the Tudor Rose vines could ensnare a charging bull in their clutches, yet appear so fragile.

"Why did you have to know so much about a foreign country." Rose Tudor asked, " It isn't like we owned them. Or did we ?"

"George III and his ministers looking at their defense budget for North America might have thought so." I paused. "I guess we can leave the past where it belongs so long as we are guided by the Ten Commandments."

A quizzical look came over Rose's face. :"You mean the right to free speech... and all that..."

"Those too !" Came my reply. "But perhaps you could pick up a copy of Winston Churchill's History of the English Speaking People and supplement your knowledge about the 'Blood, Sweat and Tears' just a bit."

"Blood, Sweat and Tears," an enlightened look blossomed on Rose Tudor's face. "Wasn't that a sixties Rock and Roll group ?"

Rose flicked the button on the tape recorder and left the room to begin her work of the day. I looked up. Estelle was in the doorway.

"Thomas Jefferson... Moses..." Estelle took note, " pretty close, only about 3,000 years apart. Maybe Charleton Heston played them both in the movies."

"If Rose completed her degree," I said sadly, "she could have my place."

And the Tudor Rose will blossom in the Spring once again.

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