English Recordings

Jane brought him the very book he wanted to buy.
He is a member of the very political organization I have been speaking about.
Hob is the very DJ who you liked at the disco yesterday.
Suddenly in the crowd I saw the very lad who was wanted by the police.
I've got many more French videos than you.
Mrs Prim is much younger than Mrs Davidson.
Many more children have seen the Harry Potter films than you say.
With each year many more young people want to get higher education.
Charles Snow is a much more famous politician than Greg Hardy.
There exist many more species of this plant than you have mentioned.

Whatever corner of hell Henry VIII currently occupies, one fact must give him some comfort: he is still bamboozling us. [...]

When was it painted?
In the months following the worst year of the reign. Early in 1536, Henry had a bad tiltyard accident that forced him to reflect seriously on his own mortality. After twenty-seven years on the throne, he still had no male heir. Unless his luck changed drastically the dynasty was doomed. He had, accordingly, got rid of wife number two (Anne Boleyn) in the hope of finding another woman who would oblige him by producing a son. [...]

What is remarkable about this representation of an English king?
Holbein flattered his subject outrageously. The profusion of jewels,
from the collar set with fabulous rubies to the gems on the king's cap and worked into his doublet, was the ultimate in bling. The padded-out shoulders added forcefulness to the composition and obliged the artist to lengthen the royal legs to preserve balance.

What, then, was this famous portrait trying to say?
It declared, without recourse to crown and sceptre or the weapons of war, that here was a victorious warrior king who had triumphed over his enemies and stood defiant in the face of all opposition. It proclaimed Henry's virility. [...]

And the truth? At the age of 45, Henry was on the brink of old age. The athletic youth who had revelled in tiltyard sports was a figure of the past. Thrombosed legs were increasingly causing him pain and would soon turn him into a semi-invalid. He was becoming fat and unwieldy. Those slender legs were, in reality, bandaged to cover open sores issuing stinking pus. [...] The truth is that Henry VIII was never more than a pale reflection of Henry VII. But, thanks to the genius of Hans Holbein, he has managed to convince posterity otherwise.

Whatever corner of hell Henry VIII currently occupies, one fact must give him some comfort: he is still bamboozling us. [...] When was it painted? In the months following the worst year of the reign. Early in 1536 Henry had a bad tiltyard accident that forced him to reflect seriously on his own mortality. After twenty-seven years on the throne he still had no male heir. Unless his luck changed drastically the dynasty was doomed. He had, accordingly, got rid of wife number two (Anne Boleyn) in the hope of finding another woman who would oblige him by producing a son. [...]

What is remarkable about this representation of an English king?
Holbein flattered his subject outrageously. The profusion of jewels,
from the collar set with fabulous rubies to the gems on the king's cap and worked into his doublet, was the ultimate in bling. The padded-out4 shoulders added forcefulness to the composition and obliged the artist to lengthen the royal legs to preserve balance.

What, then, was this famous portrait trying to say? It declared, without recourse to crown and sceptre or the weapons of war, that here was a victorious warrior king who had triumphed over his enemies and stood defiant in the face of all opposition. It proclaimed Henry's virility. [...] And the truth? At the age of 45 Henry was on the brink of old age. The athletic youth who had revelled in tiltyard sports was a figure of the past. Thrombosed legs were causing him increasing pain and would soon turn him into a semi-invalid. He was becoming fat and unwieldy. Those slender legs were, in reality, bandaged to cover open sores issuing stinking pus. [...] The truth is that Henry VIII was never more than a pale reflection of Henry VII. But, thanks to the genius of Hans Holbein, he has managed to convince posterity otherwise.