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•.•':.'•':'•:''  '••'•>,:  -.• 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


OB, 


CATHARINE   PARE. 


L.     MUHLBACH, 


AUTHORESS  OP  "  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT  AND  HIS  COURT."  "  JOSEPH  II.  AND 
HIS  COURT,"  "MERCHANT  OF  BERLIN, 


PROM  THE  GERMAN,  BY 

EEV.  H.  N.  PIERCE,  D.D. 


TWO     VOLUMES    IN    ONE. 


NEW    YORK: 
D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY, 

448   &  445  BROADWAY. 

1868. 


ENTKBED,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 

8.  H.  GOETZEL, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  cf  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  District 
of  Alabama. 


ENTERED,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867,  by 

D.  APPLETON  &  Co., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


Pr 

243 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

CHAP.  I  Choosing  a  Confessor,        .....        6 

IT.  The  Queen  and  her  Friend,       ....            14 

III.  King  Henry  the  Eighth,     .            .            .            .            .23 

IV  King  by  the  Wrath  of  God,     ....            33 

V.  The  Rivals,             .            .            .            .            .            .44 

VI.  The  Intercession,          .....            64 

VII.  Henry  the  Eighth  and  his  Wives,               .            .            .08 

VIII.  Father  and  Daughter,    .....            75 

IX.  Lcndemain,             .            .            .            .            .            .88 

X.  The  King's  Fool,            .            .            ...            .            93 

XL     The  Ride, 103 

XII.  The  Declaration,            .....          109 

Xni.  "  Le  Roi  s'ennuit,"             .            .            .            .            .120 

XIV.    The  Queen's  Friend, 130 

XV.  JohnHeywood,       ......     140 

XVI.  The  Confidant,  ......          147 

XVII.  Gammer  Gur ton's  Needle,              .           ,           .           .158 

XVIII.  Lady  Jane,        ......          168 

XIX.  Loyola's  General,  .            .           .           .           .176 

XX.  The  Prisoner,     .  .            .           '.           .            .183 

XXI.  Princess  Elizabeth,  .            .            .     <        .            .     195 
XX I L  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey,             .          *.            .          210 

XXIII.  Urother  and  Sister,  .            .             .            .            .215 

XXIV.  Tl  10  Queen's  Toilet,       .  .            .            .            .    -      226 
XXV.  The  Queen's  Rosette,          ...'..    215 

XXVI.  Revenge,            .                                     ...          268 

XXVII.  The  Acknowledgment,        .           .           .           .            .276 


CONTEXTS. 


CHAP.  XXVHI.  Intrigues,    .... 

XXIX.  The  Accusation, 

XXX.  The  Feast  of  Death, 

XXXI.  The  Queen, 

XXXII.  Undeceived, 

XXXIII.  New  Intrigues,  ... 

XXXIV.  The  King  and  the  Priest,    . 
XXXV.  Chess-Play, 

XXXVL  The  Catastrophe,     . 

XXXVII.  "  Le  Koi  est  Mort— Vive  la  Heine ! ' 


Page 
287 
295 
300 
315 
339 
356 
364 
378 
397 
409 


HENRY  Till.  AND  HIS  COURT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHOOSING    A    CONFESSOE. 

IT  was  in  the  year  1543.  King  Henry  toe  Eighth  of  Eng- 
land that  day  once  more  pronounced  himself  the  happiest  and 
most  enviable  man  in  his  kingdom,  for  to-day  he  was  once 
more  a  bridegroom,  and  Catharine  Parr,  the  youthful  widow 
of  Baron  Latimer,  had  the  perilous  happiness  of  being  selected 
as  the  king's  sixth  consort. 

Merrily  chimed  the  bells  of  all  the  steeples  of  London,  an- 
nouncing to  the  people  the  commencement  of  that  holy  cere- 
mony which  sacredly  bound  Catharine  Parr  to  the  king  as  his 
sixth  wife.  The  people,  ever  fond  of  novelty  and  show, 
crowded  through  the  streets  toward  the  royal  palace  to  catch 
a  sight  of  Catharine,  when  she  appeared  at  her  husband's  side 
upon  the  balcony,  to  show  herself  to  the  English  people  as 
their  queen,  and  to  receive  their  homage  in  return. 

Surely  it  was  a  proud  and  lofty  success  for  the  widow  of  a 
petty  baron  to  become  the  lawful  wife  of  the  King  of  England, 
and  to  wear  upon  her  brow  a  royal  crown  !  But  yet  Cath- 
arine Parr's  heart  was  moved  with  a  strange  fear,  her  cheeks 
were  pale  and  cold,  and  before  the  altar  her  closely  com- 


6  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 


pressed  lips  scarcely  had  the  power  to  part,  and  pronounce  the 
binding"  I  will." 

At  last  the  sacred  ceremony  was  completed.  The  two 
spiritual  dignitaries,  Gardiner,  bishop  of  Winchester,  and 
Craumer,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  then,  in  accordance  with 
court  etiquette,  led  the  young  bride  into  her  apartments,  in 
order  to  bless  them,  and  once  more  to  pray  with  her,  before 
the  worldly  festivities  should  begin. 

Catharine,  however,  pale  and  agitated,  had  yet  sustained 
her  part  in  the  various  ceremonies  of  the  day  with  a  true 
queenly  bearing  and  dignity  ;  and,  as  now  with  head  proudly 
erect  and  firm  step,  she  walked  with  a  bishop  at  either  side 
through  the  splendid  apartments,  no  one  suspected  how  heavy 
a  burden  weighed  upon  her  heart,  and  what  baleful  voices  were 
whispering  in  her  breast. 

Followed  by  her  new  court,  she  had  traversed  with  her 
companions  the  state  apartments,  and  now  reached  the  inner 
rooms.  Here,  according  to  the  etiquette  of  the  time,  she 
must  dismiss  her  court,  and  only  the  two  bishops  and  her 
ladies  of  honor  were  permitted  to  accompany  the  queen  into 
the  drawing-room.  But  farther  than  this  chamber  even  the 
bishops  themselves  might  not  follow  her.  The  king  himself 
had  written  down  the  order  for  the  day,  and  he  who  swerved 
from  this  order  in  the  most  insignificant  point  would  have  been 
proclaimed  guilty  of  high  treason,  and  perhaps  have  been  led 
out  to  death. 

Catharine,  therefore,  turned  with  a  languid  smile  to  the 
two  high  ecclesiastics,  and  requested  them  to  await  here  her 
summons.  Then  beckoning  to  her  ladies  of  honor,  she  with- 
drew into  her  boudoir. 

The  two  bishops  remained  by  themselves  in  the  drawing- 
room.  The  circumstance  of  their  being  alone  seemed  to  im- 
press them  both  alike  unpleasantly  ;  for  a  dark  scowl  gathered 
on  the  brows  of  both,  and  they  withdrew,  as  if  at  a  concerted 
signal,  to  the  opposite  sides  of  the  spacious  apartment. 

A  long  pause  ensued.     Nothing  was  heard  save  the  regular 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  7 

• 

ticking  of  a  large  clock  of  rare  workmanship  which  stood  over 
the  fireplace,  and  from  the  street  afar  off,  the  rejoicing  of  the 
people,  who  surged  toward  the  palace  like  a  roaring  sea. 

Gardiner  had  stepped  to  the  window,  and  was  looking  up 
with  his  peculiar  dark  smile  at  the  clouds  which,  driven  by 
the  tempest,  were  sweeping  across  the  heavens. 

Cranmer  stood  by  the  wall  on  the  opposite  side,  and  sunk 
in  sad  thoughts,  was  contemplating  a  large  portrait  of  Henry 
the  Eighth,  the  masterly  production  of  Holbein.  As  he  gazed 
on  that  countenance,  indicative  at  once  of  so  much  dignity  and 
so  much  ferocity ;  as  he  contemplated  those  eyes  which  shone 
with  such  gloomy  severity,  those  lips  on  which  was  a  smile  at 
once  voluptuous  and  fierce,  there  came  over  him  a  feeling  of 
deep  sympathy  with  the  young  woman  whom  he  had  that  day 
devoted  to  such  splendid  misery.  He  reflected  that  he  had,  in 
like  manner,  already  conducted  two  wives  of  the  king  to  the 
marriage  altar,  and  had  blessed  their  union.  But  he  reflected, 
too,  that  he  had  also,  afterward,  attended  both  these  queens 
when  they  ascended  the  scaffold. 

How  easily  might  this  pitiable  young  wife  of  the  king  fall 
a  victim  to  the  same  dark  fate  !  How  easily  might  Catharine 
Parr,  like  Anne  Boleyn  and  Catharine  Howard,  purchase  her 
short-lived  glory  with  an  ignominious  death  !  At  any  time  an 
inconsiderate  word,  a  look,  a  smile,  might  be  her  ruin.  For 
the  king's  choler  and  jealousy  were  incalculable,  and,  to  his 
cruelty,  no  punishment  seemed  too  severe  for  those  by  whom 
he  fancied  himself  injured. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  which  occupied  Bishop  Cranmer. 
They  softened  him,  and  caused  the  dark  wrinkles  to  disappear 
from  his  brow. 

He  now  smiled  to  himself  at  the  ill-humor  which  he  had 
felt  shortly  before,  and  upbraided  himself  for  having  been  so 
little  mindful  of  his  holy  calling,  and  for  having  exhibited  so 
little  readiness  to  meet  his  enemy  in  a  conciliating  spirit. 

For  Gardiner  was  his  enemy  ;  that  Cranmer  very  well  knew. 
Gardiner  had  often  enough  showed  him  this  by  his  deeds,  as 


8  HENEY   Vin.    AND   HI8   COURT. 

he  had  also  taken  pains  by  his  words  to  assure  him  of  his 
friendship. 

But  even  if  Gardiner  hated  him,  it  did  not  therefore  follow 
that  Cranmer  was  obliged  to  return  that  hatred  ;  that  he  should 
denominate  him  his  enemy,  whom  he,  in  virtue  of  their  mutual 
high  calling,  was  bound  to  honor  and  love  as  his  brother. 

The  noble  Cranmer  was,  therefore,  ashamed  of  his  momen- 
tary ill-humor.  A  gentle  smile  lighted  up  his  peaceful  counte- 
nance. With  an  air  at  once  dignified  and  friendly,  he  crossed 
the  room  and  approached  the  Bishop  of  Winchester. 

Lord  Gardiner  turned  toward  him  with  morose  looks,  and, 
without  advancing  from  the  embrasure  of  the  window  in  which 
he  was  standing,  waited  for  Cranmer  to  advance  to  him.  As 
he  looked  into  that  noble,  smiling  countenance,  he  had  a  feel- 
ing as  if  he  must  raise  his  fist  and  dash  it  into  the  face  of  this 
man,  who  had  the  boldness  to  wish  to  be  his  equal,  and  to 
contend  with  him  for  fame  and  honor. 

But  he  reflected  in  good  time  that  Cranmer  was  still  the 
king's  favorite,  and  therefore  he  must  proceed  to  work  against 
him  with  great  caution. 

So  he  forced  these  fierce  thoughts  back  into  his  heart,  and 
let  his  face  again  assume  its  wonted  grave  and  impenetrable 
expression. 

Cranmer  now  stood  close  before  him,  and  his  bright,  beam- 
ing eye  was  fixed  upon  Gardiner's  sullen  countenance. 

"  I  come  to  your  highness,"  said  Cranmer,  in  his  gentle, 
pleasant  voice,  "  to  say  to  you  that  I  wish  with  my  whole 
heart  the  queen  may  choose  you  for  her  confessor  and  spirit- 
ual director,  and  to  assure  you  that,  should  this  be  the  case, 
there  will  not  be  in  my  soul,  on  that  account,  the  least  rancor, 
or  the  slightest  dissatisfaction.  I  shall  fully  comprehend  it,  if 
her  majesty  chooses  the  distinguished  and  eminent  Bishop  of 
Winchester  as  her  confessor,  and  the  esteem  and  admiration 
which  I  entertain  for  you  can  only  be  enhanced  thereby.  In 
confirmation  of  this,  permit  me  to  offer  you  my  hand." 


HENRY  VHI.    AND   SIS    COTJET.  9 

He  presented  his  hand  to  Gardiner,  who,  however,  took  it 
reluctantly  and  but  for  a  moment. 

"  Your  highness  is  very  noble,  and  at  the  same  time  a  very 
subtle  diplomatist,  for  you  only  wish  in  an  adroit  and  ingeni- 
ous way  to  give  me  to  understand  how  I  am  to  act  should  the 
queen  choose  you  for  her  spiritual  director.  But  that  she  will 
do  so,  you  know  as  well  as  I.  It  is,  therefore,  for  me  only  a 
humiliation  which  etiquette  imposes  when  she  compels  me  to 
stand  here  and  wait  to  see  whether  I  shall  be  chosen,  or  con- 
temptuously thrust  aside." 

"  Why  will  you  look  at  matters  in. so  unfriendly  a  light?  " 
said  Cranmer,  gently.  "Wherefore  will  you  consider  it  a 
mark  of  contempt,  if  you  are  not  chosen  to  an  office  to  which, 
indeed,  neither  merit  nor  worthiness  can  call  us,  but  only  the 
personal  confidence  of  a  young  woman  ?  " 

"Oh!  you  admit  that  I  shall  not  be  chosen?"  cried 
Gardiner,  with  a  malicious  smile. 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  I  am  wholly  uninformed  as 
to  the  queen's  wish,  and  I  think  it  is  known  that  the  Bishop 
of  Canterbury  is  wont  to  speak  the  truth." 

"  Certainly  that  is  known,  but  it  is  known  also  that 
Catharine  Parr  was  a  warm  admirer  of  the  Bishop  of  Canter- 
bury ;  and  now  that  she  has  gained  her  end  and  become  queen, 
she  will  make  it  her  duty  to  show  her  gratitude  to  him." 

"  You  would  by  that  insinuate  that  I  have  made  her  queen. 
But  I  assure  your  highness,  that  here  also,  as  in  so  many 
other   matters  which   relate  to   myself,  you   are   falsely  in 
formed." 

"  Possibly  ! "  said  Gardiner,  coldly.  "  At  any  rate,  it  is 
certain  that  the  young  queen  is  an  ardent  advocate  of  the 
abominable  now  doctrine  which,  like  the  plague,  has  spread 
itself  from  Germany  over  all  Europe,  and  scattered  mischief 
and  ruin  through  all  Christcndon.  Yes,  Catharine  Purr,  the 
present  queen,  leans  to.  that  heretic  against  whom  the  Holy 
Father  at  Rome  has  hurled  his  crushing  anathema.  She  is  an 
adherent  of  the  Reformation." 
1* 


10  HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

"  You  forget,"  said  Cranmer,  with  an  arch  smile,  "  that 
this  anathema  was  hurled  against  the  head  of  our  king  also, 
and  that  it  has  shown  itself  equally  ineffectual  against  Henry 
the  Eighth  as  against  Luther.  Besides,  I  might  remind  you 
that  we  no  longer  call  the  Pope  of  Rome,  'Holy  Father,'  and 
that  you  yourself  have  recognized  the  king  as  the  head  of  our 
church." 

Gardiner  turned  away  his  face  in  order  to  conceal  the 
vexation  and  rage  which  distorted  his  features.  He  felt  that 
he  had  gone  too  far,  that  he  had  betrayed  too  much  of  the 
secret  thoughts  of  his  soul.  But  he  could  not  always  control 
his  violent  and  passionate  nature  ;  and  however  much  a  man 
of  the  world  and  diplomatist  he  might  be,  still  there  were  mo- 
ments when  the  fanatical  priest  got  the  better  of  the  man  of 
the  world,  and  the  diplomat  was  forced  to  give  way  to  the 
minister  of  the  church. 

Cranmer  pitied  Gardiner's  confusion,  and,  following  the 
native  goodness  of  his  heart,  he  said  pleasantly :  "  Let  us  not 
strive  here  about  dogmas,  nor  attempt  to  determine  whether 
Luther  or  the  pope  is  most  in  the  wrong.  We  stand  here  in 
the  chamber  of  the  young  queen.  Let  us,  therefore,  occupy 
ourselves  a  little  with  the  destiny  of  this  young  woman  whom 
God  has  chosen  for  so  brilliant  a  lot." 

"Brilliant?"  said  Gardiner,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 
"  Let  us  first  wait  for  the  termination  of  her  career,  and  then 
decide  whether  it  has  been  brilliant.  Many  a  queen  before 
this  has  fancied  that  she  was  resting  on  a  couch  of  myrtles 
and  roses,  and  has  suddenly  become  conscious  that  she  was 
lying  on  a  red-hot  gridiron,  which  consumed  her." 

"  It  is  true,"  murmured  Cranmer,  wijth  a  slight  shudder, 
"  it  is  a  dangerous  lot  to  be  the  king's  consort.  But  just  on 
that  account  let  us  not  make  the  perils  of  her  position  still 
greater,  by  adding  to  them  our  own  enmity  and  hate.  Just 
on  that  account  I  beg  you  (and  on  my  part  I  pledge  you  my 
word  for  it)  that,  let  the  choice  of  the  queen  be  as  it  may, 
there  may  be  no  feeling  of  anger,  and  no  desire  for  revenge  in 


HENEY   Vm.    AOT)   HIS   COTJBT.  11 


consequence.  My  God,  the  poor  women  are  such  odd  beings, 
so  unaccountable  in  their  wishes  and  in  their  inclinations  !  " 

"  Ah  !  it  seems  you  know  the  women  very  intimately," 
cried  Gardiner,  with  a  malicious  laugh.  "  Verily,  were  you 
not  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  had  not  the  king  prohibited 
the  marriage  of  ecclesiastics  as  a  very  grave  crime,  one  might 
suppose  that  you  had  a  wife  yourself,  and  had  gained  from  her 
a  thorough  knowledge  of  female  character." 

Cranmer,  somewhat  embarrassed,  turned  away,  and  seemed 
to  evade  Gardiner's  piercing  look.  "  We  are  not  speaking  of 
myself,"  said  he  at  length,  "  but  of  the  young  qtieen,  and  I 
entreat  for  her  your  good  wishes.  I  have  seen  her  to-day  al- 
most for  the  first  time,  and  have  never  spoken  with  her,  but 
her  countenance  has  touchingly  impressed  me,  and  it  appeared 
to  me,  her  looks  besought  us  to  remaiu  at  her  side,  ready  to 
help  her  on  this  difficult  pathway,  which  five  wives  have  al- 
ready trod  before  her,  and  in  which  they  found  only  misery 
and  tears,  disgrace,  and  blood." 

"  Let  Catharine  beware  then  that  she  does  not  forsake  the 
right  way,  as  her  five  predecessors  have  done  !  "  exclaimed 
Gardiner.  "  May  she  be  prudent  and  cautious,  and  may  she 
be  enlightened  by  God,  that  she  may  hold  the  true  faith,  and 
have  true  wisdom,  and  not  allow  herself  to  be  seduced  into  the 
crooked  path  of  the  godless  and  heretical,  but  remaiu  faithful 
and  steadfast  with  those  of  the  true  faith  !  " 

"  Who  can  say  who  are  of  the  true  faith  ?  "  murmured 
Cranmer,  sadly.  "  There  are  so  many  paths  leading  to  heaven, 
who  knows  which  is  the  right  one?" 

"  That  which  we  tread  !  "  cried  Gardiner,  with  all  the 
overweening  pride  of  a  minister  of  the  church.  "  Woe  to  the 
queen  should  she  take  any  other  road  !  Woe  to  her  if  she 
lends  her  ear  to  the  false  doctrines  which  come  ringing  over 
here  from  Germany  and  Switzerland,  and  in  the  worldly  pru- 
dence of  her  heart  imagines  that  she  can  rest  secure  1  I  will 
be  her  most  faithful  and  zealous  servant,  if  she  is  with  me  ;  I 
will  be  her  most  implacable  enemy  if  she  is  against  me." 


12  HENBY   Vm.    AKD   HIS   COURT. 


"  And  will  you  call  it  being  against  you^  if  the  queen  doea 
not  choose  you  for  her  confessor?" 

."  Will  you  ask  me  to  call  it,  being  for  me?  " 

"  Now  God  grant  that  she  may  choose  you  !  "  exclaimed 
Cranmer,  fervently,  as  he  clasped  his  hands  and  raised  his  eyes 
to  heaven.  "  Poor,  unfortunate  queen  !  The  first  proof  of 
thy  husband's  love  may  be  thy  first  misfortune  !  Why  gave 
lie  thee  the  liberty  of  choosing  thine  own  spiritual  director? 
Why  did  he  not  choose  for  thee  ?  " 

And  Cranmer  dropped  his  head  upon  his  breast,  and  sighed 
deeply. 

At  this  instant  the  door  of  the  royal  chamber  opened,  and 
Lady  Jane,  daughter  of  Earl  Douglas,  and  first  maid  of  honor 
to  the  queen,  made  her  appearance  on  the  threshold. 

Both  bishops  regarded  her  in  breathless  silence.  It  was  a 
serious,  a  solemn  moment,  the  deep  importance  of  which  was 
very  well  comprehended  by  all  three. 

"  Her  majesty  the  queen,"  said  Lady  Jane,  in  an  agitated 
voice,  "  her  majesty  requests  the  presence  of  Lord  Cranmer, 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  in  her  cabinet,  in  order  that  she 
may  perform  her  devotions  with  him." 

"  Poor  queen  !  "  murmured  Cranmer,  as  he  crossed  the 
room  to  go  to  Catharine  —  "poor  queen  !  she  has  just  made  an 
implacable  enemy." 

Lady  Jane  waited  till  Cranmer  had  disappeared  through 
the  door,  then  hastened  with  eager  steps  to  the  bishop  of  Win- 
chester, and  dropping  on  her  knee,  humbly  said,  "  Grace,  your 
highness,  grace  !  My  words  were  in  vain,  and  were  not  able 
to  shake  her  resolution." 

Gardiner  raised  up  the  kneeling  maiden,  and  forced  a  smile. 
"  It  is  well,"  said  he,  "  I  doubt  not  of  your  zeal.  You  are  a 
true  handmaid  of  the  church,  and  she  will  love  and  reward 
you  for  it  as  a  mother  !  It  is  then  decided.  The  queen  is  —  " 

"  Is  a  heretic,"  whispered  Lady  Jane.     "  Woe  to  her  !  " 

"  And  will  you  be  true,  and  will  you  faithfully  adhere  to 
us?" 


HENET   Tin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  13 

"  True,  in  every  thought  of  my  being,  and  every  drop  of  my 
heart's  blood." 

"  So  shall  we  overcome  Catharine  Parr,  as  we  overcame 
Catharine  Howard.  To  the  block  with  the  heretic !  We 
found  means  of  bringing  Catharine  Howard  to  the  scaffold ; 
you,  Lady  Jane,  must  find  the  means  of  leading  Catharine 
Parr  the  same  way." 

"  I  will  find  them,"  said  Lady  Jane,  quietly.  "  She  loves 
and  trusts  me.  I  will  betray  her  friendship  in  order  to  re- 
main true  to  my  religion." 

"  Catharine  Parr  then  is  lost,"  said  Gardiner,  aloud. 

"  Yes,  she  is  lost,"  responded  Earl  Douglas,  who  had  just 
entered,  and  caught  the  last  words  of  the  bishop.  "  Yes,  she 
is  lost,  for  we  are  her  inexorable  and  ever-vigilant  enemies. 
But  I  deem  it  not  altogether  prudent  to  utter  words  like 
these  in  the  queen's  drawing-room.  Let  us  therefore 
choose  a  more  favorable  hour.  Besides,  your  highness, 
you  must  betake  yourself  to  the  grand  reception-hall,  where 
the  whole  court  is  already  assembled,  and  now  only  awaits  the 
king  to  go  in  formal  procession  for  the  young  queen,  and  con- 
duct her  to  the  balcony.  Let  us  go,  then." 

Gardiner  nodded  in  silence,  and  betook  himself  to  the  re- 
ception-hall. 

Earl  Douglas  with  his  daughter  followed  him.  "  Catharine 
Parr  is  lost,"  whispered  he  in  Lady  Jane's  ear.  "  Catharine 
Parr  is  lost,  and  you  shall  be  the  king's  seventh  wife." 

Whilst  this  was  passing  in  the  drawing-room,  the  young 
queen  was  on  her  knees  before  Cranmer,  and  with  him  send- 
ing up  to  God  fervent  prayers  for  prosperity  and  peace. 
Tears  filled  her  eyes,  and  her  heart  trembled  as  if  before 
some  approaching  calamity. 


14:  HENEY   VIH.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

CHAPTER    H. 

THE  QUEEN  AND  HER  FRIEND. 

AT  last  tKis  long  day  of  ceremonies  and  festivities  drew 
near  its  close,  and  Catharine  might  soon  hope  to  be,  for  the 
time,  relieved  from  this  endless  presenting  and  smiling,  from 
this  ever-renewed  homage. 

At  her  husband's  side  she  had  shown  herself  on  the  balcony 
to  receive  the  greetings  of  the  people,  and  to  bow  her  thanks. 
Then  in  the  spacious  audience-chamber  her  newly  appointed 
court  had  passed  before  her  in  formal  procession,  and  she  had 
exchanged  a  few  meaningless,  friendly  words  with  each  of 
these  lords  and  ladies.  Afterward  she  had,  at  her  husband's 
side,  given  audience  to  the  deputations  from  the  city  and  from 
Parliament.  But  it  was  only  with  a  secret  shudder  that  she 
had  received  from  their  lips  the  same  congratulations  and 
praises  with  which  the  authorities  had  already  greeted  five 
other  wives  of  the  king. 

Still  she  had  been  able  to  smile  and  seem  happy,  for  she 
well  knew  that  the  king's  eye  was  never  off  of  her,  and  that  all 
these  lords  and  ladies  who  now  met  her  with  such  deference, 
and  with  homage  apparently  so  sincere,  were  yet,  in  truth,  all 
her  bitter  enemies.  For  by  her  marriage  she  had  destroyed 
so  many  hopes,  she  had  pushed  aside  so  many  who  believed 
themselves  better  fitted  to  assume  the  lofty  position  of  queen  ! 
She  knew  that  these  victims  of  disappointment  would  never 
forgive  her  this  ;  that  she,  who  was  but  yesterday  their  equal, 
had  to-day  soared  above  them  as  queen  and  mistress ;  she 
knew  that  all  these  were  watching  with  spying  eyes  her  every 
word  and  action,  in  order,  it  might  be,  to  forge  therefrom  an 
accusation  or  a  death-warrant. 

But  nevertheless  she  smiled  !  She  smiled,  though  she  felt 
that  the  choler  of  the  king,  so  easily  kindled  and  so  cruelly 
vindictive,  ever  swung  over  her  head  like  the  sword  of  Dam- 
ocles. 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COTJET.  15 

She  smiled,  so  that  this  sword  might  not  fall  upon  her.    < 

At  length  all  these  presentations,  this  homage  and  rejoicing 
were  well  over,  and  they  came  to  the  more  agreeable  and  sat- 
isfactory part  of  the  feast. 

They  went  to  dinner.  That  was  Catharine's  first  m6ment 
of  respite,  of  rest.  For  when  Henry  the  Eighth  seated  him- 
self at  table,  he  was  no  longer  the  haughty  monarch  and  the 
jealous  husband,  but  merely  the  proficient  artiste  and  the  im- 
passioned gourmand ;  and  whether  the  pastry  was  well  sea- 
soned, and  the  pheasant  of  good  flavor,  was  for  him  then  a 
far  more  important  question  than  any  concerning  the  weal  of 
his  people,  and  the  prosperity  of  his  kingdom. 

But  after  dinner  came  another  respite,  a  new  enjoyment,  and 
this  time  a  more  real  one,  which  indeed  for  a  while  banished 
all  gloomy  forebodings  and  melancholy  fears  from  Catharine's 
heart,  and  suffused  her  countenance  with  the  rosy  radiance  of 
cheerfulness  and  happy  smiles.  For  King  Henry  had  pre- 
pared for  his  young  wife-a  peculiar  and  altogether  novel  sur- 
prise. He  had  caused  to  be  erected  in  the  palace  of  Whitehall 
a  stage,  whereon  was  represented,  by  the  nobles  of  the  court, 
a  comedy  from  Plautus.  Heretofore  there  had  been  no  other 
theatrical  exhibitions  than  those  which  the  people  performed 
on  the  high  festivals  of  the  church,  the  morality  and  the  mys- 
tery plays.  King  Henry  the  Eighth  was  the  first  who  had  a 
stage  erected  for  worldly  amusement  likewise,  and  caused  to 
be  represented  on  it  subjects  other  than  mere  dramatized 
church  history.  As  he  freed  the  church  from  its  spiritual  head, 
the  pope,  so  he  wished  to  free  the  stage  from  the  church,  and 
to  behold  upon  it  other  more  lively  spectacles  than  the  roast- 
ing of  saints  and  the  massacre  of  inspired  nuns. 

And  why,  too,  represent  such  mock  tragedies  on  the  stage, 
when  the  king  was  daily  performing  them  in  reality  ?  The 
burning  of  Christian  martyrs  and  inspired  virgins  was,  under 
the  reign  of  the  Christian  king  Henry,  such  a  usual  and  every- 
day occurrence,  that  it  could  afford  a  piquant  entertainment 
neither  to  the  court  nor  to  himself. 


16  HEKEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

But  the  representation  of  a  Roman  comedy,  that,  however 
was  a  new  and  piquant  pleasure,  a  surprise  for  the  young 
queen.  He  had  the  "  Curculio  "  played  before  his  wife,  and 
if  Catharine  indeed  could  listen  to  the  licentious  and  shameless 
jests  of  the  popular  Roman  poet  only  with  bashful  blushes, 
Henry  was  so  much  the  more  delighted  by  it,  and  accom- 
panied the  obscenest  allusions  and  the  most  indecent  jests  with 
his  uproarious  laughter  and  loud  shouts  of  applause. 

At  length  this  festivity  was  also  over  with,  and  Catharine 
.was  now  permitted  to  retire  with  her  attendants  to  her  private 
apartments. 

With  a  pleasant  smile,  she  dismissed  her  cavaliers,  and 
bade  her  women  and  her  second  maid  of  honor,  Anna  Askew, 
go  into  her  boudoir  and  await  her  call.  Then  she  gave  her 
arm  to  her  friend  Lady  Jane  Douglas,  and  with  her  entered 
her  cabinet. 

At  last  she  was  alone,  at  last  unwatched.  The  smile  dis- 
appeared from  her  face,  and  an  expression  of  deep  sadness 
Vas  stamped  upon  her  features. 

*l  Jane,"  said  she,  "  pray  thee  shut  the  doors  and  draw  the 
window  curtains,  so  that  nobody  can  see  me,  nobody  hear  me, 
no  one  except  yourself,  my  friend,  the  companion  of  my 
happy  childhood.  Oh,  my  God,  my  God,  why  was  I  so 
foolish  as  to  leave  my  father's  quiet,  lonely  castle  and  go  out 
into  the  world,  which  is  so  full  of  terror  and  horror  ?  " 

She  sighed  and  groaned  deeply  ;  and  burying  her  face  in  her 
hands,  she  sank  upon  the  ottoman,  weeping  and  trembling. 

Lady  Jane  observed  her  with  a  peculiar  smile  of  malicious 
satisfaction. 

"  She  is  queen  and  she  weeps,"  said  she  to  herself.  "  My  God, 
how  can  a  woman  possibly  feel  unhappy,  and  she  a  queen  ?  " 

She  approached  Catharine,  and,  seating  herself  on  the 
tabouret  at  her  feet,  she  impressed  a  fervent  kiss  on  the  queen's 
drooping  hand. 

"  Your  majesty  weeping  !  "  said  she,  in  her  most  insinuat- 
ing tone.  "  My  God,  you  are  then  unhappy ;  and  I  received 


HENRY   Yin.    AND    HIS   COURT.  17 

with  a  loud  cry  of  joy  the  news  of  my  friend's  unexpected 
good  fortune.  I  thought  to  meet  a  queen,  proud,  happy,  and 
radiant  with  joy  ;  and  I  was  anxious  and  fearful  lest  the  queen 
might  have  ceased  to  be  my  friend.  Wherefore  I  urged  my 
father,  as  soon  as  your  command  reached  us,  to  leave  Dublin 
and  hasten  with  me  hither.  Oh,  my  God  !  I  wished  to  see 
you  in  your  happiness  and  in  your  greatness." 

Catharine  removed  her  hands  from  her  face,  and  looked 
down  at  her  friend  with  a  sorrowful  smile.  "  "Well,"  said  she, 
"  are  you  not  satisfied  with  what  you  have  seen  ?  Have  I  not* 
the  whole  day  displayed  to  you  the  smiling  queen,  worn  a  dress 
embroidered  with  gold?  did  not  my  neck  glitter  with  dia- 
monds ?  did  not  the  royal  diadem  shine  in  my  hair  ?  and  sat  not 
the  king  by  my  side  ?  Let  that,  then,  be  sufficient  for  the  pres- 
ent. You  have  seen  the  queen  all  day  long.  Allow  me  now 
for  one  brief,  happy  moment  to  .be  again  the  feeling,  sensitive 
woman,  who  can  pour  into  the  bosom  of  her  friend  all  her 
complaint  and  her  wretchedness.  Ah,  Jane,  if  you  knew  how 
I  have  longed  for  this  hour;  how  I  have  sighed  after  you  as 
the  only  balm  for  my  poor  smitten  heart,  smitten  even  to  death, 
how  I  have  implored  Heaven  for  this  day,  for  this  one  thing — 
'  Give  me  back  my  Jane,  so  that  she  can  weep  with  me,  so  that 
I  may  have  one  being  at  my  side  who  understands  me,  and 
does  not  allow  herself  to  be  imposed  upon  by  the  wretched 
splendor  of  this  outward  display  ! ' ' 

"  Poor  Catharine  !  "  whispered  Lady  Jane, "  poor  queen  ! " 

Catharine  started  and  laid  her  hand,  sparkling  with  bril- 
liants, on  Jane's  lips.  "  Call  me  not  thus  ! "  said  she.  "  Queen  ! 
My  God,  is  not  all  the  fearful  past  heard  again  in  that  word  ? 
Queen  !  Is  it  not  as  much  as  to  say,  condemned  to  the  scaf- 
fold and  a  public  criminal  trial?  Ah,  Jane  !  a  deadly  tremor 
runs  through  my  members.  I  am  Henry  the  Eighth's  sixth 
queen  ;  I  shall  also  bo  executed,  or,  loaded  with  disgrace,  be 
repudiated." 

Again  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  her  whole  framo 
shook  ;  so  she  saw  not  the  smile  of  malicious  satisfaction  with 


18  HENRY    Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

•which  Lady  Jane  again  observed  her.  She  suspected  not  with 
what  secret  delight  her  friend  heard  her  lamentations  and 
sighs. 

"  Oh  !  I  am  at  least  revenged  !  "  thought  Jane,  while  she 
lovingly  stroked  the  queen's  hair.  "  Yes,  I  am  revenged ! 
She  has  robbed  me  of  a  crown,  but  she  is  wretched ;  and  in 
the  golden  goblet  which  she  presses  to  her  lips  she  will  find 
nothing  but  wormwood !  Now,  if  this  sixth  queen  dies  not 
on  the  scaffold,  still  we  may  perhaps  so  work  it  that  she  dies  of 
anxiety,  or  deems  it  a  pleasure  to  be  able  to  lay  down  again 
her  royal  crown  at  Henry's  feet." 

Then  said  she  aloud:  "  But  why  these  fears,  Catharine? 
The  king  loves  you  ;  the  whole  court  has  seen  with  what  ten- 
der and  ardent  looks  he  has  regarded  you  to-day,  and  with 
what  delight  he  has  listened  to  your'  every  word.  Certainly 
the  king  loves  you." 

Catharine  seized  her  hand  impulsively.  "  The  king  loves 
me,"  whispered  she,  "  and  I,  I  tremble  before  him.  Yes,  more 
than  that,  his  love  fills  me  with  horror  !  His  hands  are  dipped 
in  blood ;  and  as  I  saw  him  to-day  ia  his  crimson  robes  I 
shuddered,  and  I  thought,  How  soon,  and  my  blood,  too,  will 
dye  this  crimson  ! " 

Jane  smiled.  "  You  are  sick,  Catharine,"  said  she.  "  This 
good  fortune  has  taken  you  by  surprise,  and  your  overstrained 
nerves  now  depict  before  you  all  sorts  of  frightful  forms.  That 
is  all." 

"  No,  no,  Jane  ;  these  thoughts  have  ever  been  with  me. 
.  They  have  attended  me  ever  since  the  king  selected  me  for  his 
wife." 

"And  why,  then,  did  you  not  refuse  him?"  asked  Lady 
Jane.  "  Why  did  you  not  say  '  no,'  to  the  king's  suit?" 

"  Why  did  I  not  do  it,  ask  you  ?  Ah,  Jane,  are  you  such 
a  stranger  at  this  court  as  not  to  know,  then,  that  one  must 
either  fulfil  the  king's  behests  or  die  ?  My  God,  they  envy 
me !  They  call  me  the  greatest  and  most  potent  woman  of 
England.  They  know  not  that  I  am  poorer  and  more  power- 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  19 

less  than  the  beggar  of  the  street,  who  at  least  has  the  power 
to  refuse  whom  she  will.  I  could  not  refuse.  I  must  either  die 
or  accept  the  royal  hand  which  was  extended  to  me  ;  and  I 
would  not  die  yet,  I  have  still  so  many  claims  on  life,  and  it  has 
hiiherto  made  good  so  few  of  them  !  Ah,  my  poor,  hapless  ex- 
istence !  what  has  it  been,  but  an  endless  chain  of  renunciations 
and  deprivations,  of  leafless  flowers  aud  dissolving  views?  It  is 
true,  I  have  never  learned  to  know  what  is  usually  called  mis- 
fortune. But  is  there  a  greater  misfortune  than  not  to  be  hap- 
py ;  than  to  sigh  through  a  life  without  wish  or  hope ;  to  wear 
away  the  endless,  weary  days  of  an  existence  without  delight, 
yet  surrounded  with  luxury  and  splendor?" 

"  You  were  not  unfortunate,  and  yet  you  are  an  orphan, 
fatherless  and  motherless  ?  " 

"  1  lost  my  mother  so  early  that  I  scarcely  knew  her.  And 
when  my  father  died  I  could  hardly  consider  it  other  than  a 
blessing,  for  he  had  never  shown  himself  a  father,  but  always 
only  as  a  harsh,  tyrannical  master  to  me." 

"  But  you  were  married  ?  " 

"  Married ! "  said  Catharine,  with  a  melancholy  smile. 
"  That  is  to  say,  my  father  sold  me  to  a  gouty  old  man,  on 
whose  couch  I  spent  a  few  comfortless,  awfully  wearisome 
years,  till'  Lord  Neville  made  me  a  rich  widow.  But  what 
did  my  independence  avail  me,  when  I  had  bound  myself  in 
new  fetters  ?  Hitherto  I  had  been  the  slave  of  my  father,  of 
my  husband  ;  now  I  was  the  slave  of  my  wealth.  I  ceased  to 
be  a  sick-nurse  to  become  steward  of  my  estate.  Ah!  this 
was  the  most  tedious  period  of  my  life.  And  yet  I  owe  to  it 
my  only  real  happiness,  for  at  that  period  I  became  acquainted 
with  you,  my  Jane,  and  my  heart,  which  had  never  yet  learned 
to  know  a  tenderer  feeling,  flew  to  you  with  all  the  impetuosity 
of  a  first  passion.  Believe  me,  my  Jane,  when  this  long-miss- 
ing nephew  of  my  husband  came  and  snatched  away  from  mo 
hid  hereditary  estate,  and,  as  the  lord,  took  possession  of  it, 
then  the  thought  that  I  must  leave  you  and  your  father,  the 
neighboring  proprietor,  was  my  only  grief.  Men  commiserated 


20  HENRY    Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

me  on  account  of  my  lost  property.  I  thanked  God  that  Ho 
had  relieved  me  of  this  load,  and  I  started  for  London,  that  I 
might  at  last  live  and  feel,  that  I  might  learn  to  know  real 
happiness  or  real  misery." 

"  And  what  did  you  find  ?  " 

"  Misery,  Jane,  for  I  am  queen." 

"  Is  that  your  sole  unhappiness  ?  " 

"  My  only  one,  but  it  is  great  enough,  for  it  condemns  me 
to  eternal  anxiety,  to  eternal  dissimulation.  It  condemns  me 
to  feign  a  love  which  I  do  not  feel,  to  endure  caresses  which 
make  me  shudder,  because  they  are  an  inheritance  from  five 
unfortunate  women.  Jane,  Jane,  do  you  comprehend  what  it 
is  to  be  obliged  to  embrace  a  man  who  has  murdered  three 
wives,  and  put  away  two?  to  be  obliged  to  kiss  this  king 
whose  lips  open  just  as  readily  to  utter  vows  of  love  as  sen- 
tences of  death  ?  Ah,  Jane,  I  speak,  I  live,  and  still  I  suffer 
all  the  agonies  of  death !  They  call  me  a  queen,  and  yet  I 
tremble  for  my  life  every  hour,  and  conceal  my  anxiety  and 
fear  beneath  the  appearance  of  happiness !  My  God,  I  am 
five-and-twenty,  and  my  heart  is  still  the  heart  of  a  child ;  it 
does  not  yet  know  itself,  and  now  it  is  doomed  never  to  learn 
to  know  itself ;  for  I  am  Henry's  wife,  and  to  love  another  is, 
in  other  words,  to  wish  to  mount  the  scaffold.  The  scaffold ! 
Look,  Jane.  When  the  king  approached  me  and  confessed  his 
love  and  offered  me  his  hand,  suddenly  there  rose  before  me  a 
fearful  picture.  It  was  no  more  the  king  whom  I  saw  before 
me,  but  the  hangman ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  saw  three 
corpses  lying  at  his  feet,  and  with  a  loud  scream  I  sank  sense- 
less before  him.  When  I  revived,  the  king  was  holding  me  in 
his  arms.  The  shock  of  this  unexpected  good  fortune,  he 
thought,  had  made  me  faint.  He  kissed  me  and  called  me 
his  bride ;  he  thought  not  for  a  moment  that  I  could  refuse 
him.  And  I — despise  me,  Jane — I  was  such  a  dastard,  that  I 
could  not  summon  up  courage  for  a  downright  refusal.  Yes, 
I  was  so  craven  also,  as  to  be  unwilling  to  die.  Ah,  my  God, 
it  appeared  to  me  that  life  at  that  moment  beckoned  to  me 


HENBY  VIII.   AND  HIS  COURT.  21 

•with  thousands  of  joys,  thousands  of  charms,  which  I  had 
never  known,  and  for  which  my  soul  thirsted  as  for  the  manna 
in  the  wilderness.  I  would  live,  live  at  any  cost.  I  would 
gain  myself  a  respite,  so  that  I  might  once  more  share  happi- 
ness, love,  and  enjoyment.  Look,  Jane,  men  call  me  ambi- 
tious. They  say  I  have  given  my  hand  to  Henry  because  he 
is  king.  Ah,  they  know  not  how  I  shuddered  at  this  royal 
crown.  They  know  not  that  in  anguish  of  heart  I  besought 
the  king  not  to  bestow  his  hand  upon  me,  and  thereby  Touse 
all  the  ladies  of  his  kingdom  as  foes  against  me.  They  know 
not  that  I  confessed  that  I  loved  him,  merely  that  I  might  be 
able  to  add  that  I  was  ready,  out  of  love  to  him,  to  sacrifice 
my  own  happiness  to  his,  and  so  conjured  him  to  choose  a 
consort  worthy  of  himself,  from  the  hereditary  princesses  of 
Europe.*  But  Henry  rejected  my  sacrifice.  He  wished  to 
make  a  queen,  in  order  to  possess  a  wife,  who  may  be  his  own 
property — whose  blood,  as  her  lord  and  master,  he  can  shed. 
So  I  am  queen.  I  have  accepted  my  lot,  and  henceforth  my 
existence  will  be  a  ceaseless  struggle  and  wrestling  with  death. 
I  will  at  least  sell  my  life  as  dearly  as  possible  ;  and  the  maxim 
which  Cranmer  has  given  me  shall  hereafter  be  my  guide  on 
the  thorny  path  of  life. " 

"  And  how  runs  this  maxim  ?  "  asked  Jane. 

"  Be  wise  as  serpents  and  harmless  as  doves,"  replied 
Catharine,  with  a  languid  smile,  as  she  dropped  her  head  upon 
her  breast  and  surrendered  herself  to  her  painful  and  foreboding 
reflections. 

Lady  Jane  stood  opposite  to  her,  and  gazed  with  cruel 
composure  upon  the  painfully  convulsed  countenance  and  at 
times  violently  trembling  form  of  the  young  queen  for  whom 
all  England  that  day  kept  festival,  and  who  yet  was  sitting  be- 
fore her  eo  wretched  and  full  of  sorrow. 

Suddenly  Catharine  raised  her  head.  Her  countenance 
had  now  assumed  an  entirely  different  expression.  It  was 
now  firm,  resolute,  and  dauntless.  With  a  slight  inclination 

*  " La  yto  d'EMzaboth,  Reine  d'Angletcrre,  Tradulto  de 'Itallen do  Monsieur  Grggoiro 
Letl,"  vol.  11.    Amsterdam,  1094.    . 


22  HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COTJBT. 

of  the  head  she  extended  her  hand  to  Lady  Jane,  and  drew  her 
friend  more  closely  to  her. 

"  I  thank  you,  Jane,"  said  she,  as  she  imprinted  a  kiss 
upon  her  forehead — "  I  thank  you !  You  have  done  my 
heart  good  and  relieved  it  of  its  oppressive  load  of  secret 
anguish.  He  who  can  give  his  grief  utterance,  is  already 
half  cured  of  it.  I  thank  you,  then,  Jane  !  Henceforth,  you 
will  find  me  calm  and  cheerful.  The  woman  has  wept  before 
you,  but  the  queen  is  aware  that  she  has  a  task  to  accomplish 
as  difficult  as  it  is  noble,  and  I  give  you  my  word  for  it,  she 
will  accomplish  it.  The  new  light  which  has  risen  on  the 
world  shall  no  more  be  dimmed  by  blood  and  tears,  and  no 
more  in  this  unhappy  land  shall  men  of  sense  and  piety  be 
condemned  as  insurgents  and  traitors  !  This  is  the  task  which 
God  has  set  me,  and  I  swear  that  I  will  accomplish  it !  Will 
you  help  me  in  this,  too,  Jane?" 

Lady  Jane  responded  faintly  in  a  few  words,  which  Cath- 
arine did  not  understand,  and  as  she  looked  up  to  her,  she 
noticed,  with  astonishment,  the  corpse-like  pallor  which  had 
suddenly  overspread  the  countenance  of  her  maid  of  honor. 

Catharine  gave  a  start,  and  fixed  on  her  face  a  surprised 
and  searching  look. 

Lady  Jane  cast  down  her  eyes  before  that  searching  and 
flashing  glance.  Her  fanaticism  had  for  the  moment  got  the 
better  of  her,  and  much  as  she  was  wont  at  other  times  to  hide 
her  thoughts  and  feelings,  it  had,  at  that  moment,  carried  her 
away  and  betrayed  her  to  the  keen  eye  of  her  friend. 

"  It  is  now  a  long  while  since  we  saw  each  other,"  said 
Catharine,  sadly.  "  Three  years !  It  is  a  long  time  for  a 
young  girl's  heart !  And  you  were  those  three  years  with 
your  father  in  Dublin,  at  that  rigidly  popish  court.  I  did  not 
consider  that !  But  however  much  your  opinions  may  have 
changed,  your  heart,  I  know,  still  remains  the  same,  and  you 
will  ever  be  the  proud,  high-minded  Jane  of  former  days,  who 
could  never  stoop  to  tell  a  lie — no,  not  even  if  this  lie  would 
procure  her  profit  and  glory.  I  ask  you  then,  Jane,  what 


HENEY  Vin.   AND  HIS   COUET.  23 

is  your  religion  ?  Do  you  believe  in  the  Pope  of  Rome,  and 
the  Church  of  Rome  as  the  only  channel  of  salvation?  or  do 
you  follow  the  new  teaching  which  Luther  and  Calvin  have 
promulgated  ?  " 

Lady  Jane  smiled.  "Would  I  have  risked  appearing  be- 
fore you,  if  I  still  reckoned  myself  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church?  Catharine  Parr  is  hailed  by  the  Protestants  of 
England  as  the  new  patroness  of  the  persecuted  doctrine,  and 
already  the  Romish  priests  hurl  their  anathemas  against  you, 
and  execrate  you  and  your  dangerous  presence  here.  And 
you  ask  me,  whether  I  am  an  adherent  of  that  church  which 
maligns  and  damns  you?  You  ask  me  whether  I  believe 
in  the  pope,  who  has  laid  the  king  under  an  interdict — the 
king,  who  is  not  only  my  lord  and  master,  but  also  the  hus- 
band of  my  precious  and  noble  Catharine?  Oh,  queen, 
you  love  me  not  when  you  can  address  such  a  question  to  me." 

And  as  if  overcome  by  painful  emotion,  Lady  Jane  sank 
down  at  Catharine's  feet,  and  hid  her  head  in  the  folds  of  the 
queen's  robe. 

Catharine  bent  down  to  raise  her  and  take  her  to  her  heart. 
Suddenly  she  started,  and  a  deathly  paleness  overspread  her 
face.  "  The  king,"  whispered  she,  "  the  king  is  coming ! " 


CHAPTER    III. 

KING  HENRY  THE   EIGHTH. 

CATHARINE  was  not  deceived.  The  doors  were  opened, 
and  on  the  threshold  appeared  the  lord  marshal,  with  his 
golden  mace. 

"  His  majesty  the  king ! "  whispered  he,  in  his  grave, 
solemn  manner,  which  filled  Catharine  with  secret  dread,  as 
though  he  were  pronouncing  the  sentence  of  death  over  her. 

But  she  forced  a  smile  and  advanced  to  the  door  to  receive 
the  king.  Now  was  heard  a  thunder-like  rumble,  and  over 


24:  HENKT   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUBT. 

the  smoothly  carpeted  floor  of  the  anteroom  came,  rolling  on 
the  king's  house  equipage.  This  house  equipage  consisted  of 
a  large  chair,  resting  on  castors,  which  was  moved  by  men  in 
the  place  of  horses,  and  to  which  they  had,  with  artful  flattery, 
given  the  form  of  a  triumphal  car  of  the  old  victorious  Roman 
Caesars,  in  order  to  afford  the  king,  as  he  rolled  through  the 
halls,  the  pleasant  illusion  that  he  was  holding  a  triumphal 
procession,  and  that  it  was  not  the  burden  of  his  heavy  limbs 
which  fastened  him  to  his  imperial  car.  King  Henry  gave 
ready  credence  to  the  flattery  of  his  truckle-chair  and  his 
courtiers,  and  as  he  rolled  along  in  it  through  the  saloons 
glittering  with  gold,  and  through  halls  adorned  with  Venetian 
mirrors,  which  reflected  his  form  a  thousandfold,  he  liked  to 
lull  himself  into  the  dream  of  being  a  triumphing  hero,  and 
wholly  forgot  that  it  was  not  his  deeds,  but  his  fat,  that  had 
helped  him  to  his  triumphal  car. 

For  that  monstrous  mass  which  filled  up  the  colossal  chair, 
that  mountain  of  purple-clad  flesh,  that  clumsy,  almost  shape- 
less mass,  that  was  Henry  the  Eighth,  king  of  merry  Eng- 
land. But  that  mass  had  a  head — a  head  full  of  dark  and 
wrathful  thoughts,  a  heart  full  of  bloodthirsty  and  cruel  lusts. 
The  colossal  body  was  indeed,  by  its  physical  weight,  fastened 
to  the  chair.  Yet  his  mind  never  rested,  but  he  hovered,  with 
the  talons  and  flashing  eye  of  the  bird  of  prey,  over  his  people, 
ever  ready  to  pounce  upon  some  innocent  dove,  to  drink  her 
blood,  and  tear  out  her  heart,  that  he  might  lay  it,  all  palpi- 
tating, as  an  offering  on  the  altar  of  his  sanguinary  god. 

The  king's  sedan  now  stopped,  and  Catharine  hastened  for- 
ward with  smiling  face,  to  assist  her  royal  husband  in  alighting. 

Henry  greeted  her  with  a  gracious  nod,  and  rejected  the 
proffered  aid  of  the  attendant  pages. 

"  Away,"  said  he,  "  away  !  My  Catharine  alone  shall 
extend  me  her  hand,  and  give  me  a  welcome  to  the  bridal 
chamber.  Go,  we  feel  to-day  as  young  and  strong  as  in 
our  best  and  happiest  days,  and  the  young  queen  shall  see 
that  it  is  no  decrepit  graybeard,  tottering  with  age,  who  woos 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTTHT.  25 

her,  but  a  strong  man  rejuvenated  by  love.  Think  not, 
Kate,  that  I  use  my  car  because  of  weakness.  No,  it  was 
only  my  longing  for  you  which  made  me  wish  to  be  with  you 
the  sooner." 

He  kissed  her  with  a  smile,  and,  lightly  leaning  on  her  arm, 
alighted  from  his  car. 

"  Away  with  the  equipage,  and  with  all  of  you  !  "  said  he1, 
"  "We  wish  to  be  alone  with  this  beautiful  young  wife,  whom 
the  lord  bishops  have  to-day  made  our  own." 

At  a  signal  from  his  hand,  the  brilliant  cortege  withdrew, 
and  Catharine  was  alone  with  the  king. 

Her  heart  beat  so  wildly  that  it  made  her  lips  tremble,  and 
her  bosom  swell  high. 

Henry  saw  it,  and  smiled  ;  but  it  was  a  cold,  cruel  smile, 
and  Catharine  grew  pale  before  it. 

"  He  has  only  the  smile  of  a  tyrant,"  said  she  to  herself. 
44  With  this  same  smile,  by  which  he  would  now  give  expres- 
sion to  his  love,  he  yesterday,  perhaps,  signed  a  death-warrant, 
or  will,  to-morrow,  witness  an  execution." 

"  Do  you  love  me,  Kate?  "  suddenly  said  the  king,  who  had 
till  now  observed  her  in  silence  and  thoughtful  ness.  "  Say, 
Kate,  do  you  love  me  ?  " 

He  looked  steadily  into  her  eyes,  as  though  he  would  read 
her  soul  to  the  very  bottom. 

Catharine  sustained  his  look,  and  did  not  drop  her  eyes. 
She  felt  that  this  was  the  decisive  moment  which  determined 
her  whole  future  ;  and  this  conviction  restored  to  her  all  her 
self-possession  and  energy. 

She  was  now  no  longer  the  shy,  timid  girl,  but  the  reso- 
lute, proud  woman,  who  was  ready  to  wrestle  with  fate  for 
greatness  and  glory. 

"Do  you  love  me,  Kate?"  repeated  the  king;  and  his 
brow  already  began  to  darken. 

44 1  know   not,"  said  Catharine,  with   a  smile,  which  en- 
chanted tin-,  king,  for  there  was  quite  as  much  graceful  coquet- 
ry as  bashfulncss  on  her  charming  face. 
2 


26  HENRY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

"You  know  not?"  replied  Henry,  astonished.  "Now, 
by  the  Mother  of  God,  it  is  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  a 
woman  has  ever  been  bold  enough  to  return  me  such  an  an- 
swer !  You  are  a  bold  woman,  Kate,  to  hazard  it,  and  I  praise 
you  for  it.  I  love  bravery,  because  it  is  something  I  so  rarely 
see.  They  all  tremble  before  me,  Kate — all !  They  know 
that  I  am  not  intimidated  by  blood,  and  in  the  might  of  my 
royalty  I  subscribe  a  death-warrant  with  the  same  calmness 
of  soul  as  a  love-letter." 

"  Oh,  you  are  a  great  king,"  murmured  Catharine. 

Henry  did  not  notice  her.  He  was  wholly  buried  in  one  of 
those  self-contemplations  to  which  he  so  willingly  surrendered 
himself,  and  which  generally  had  for  their  subject  his  own 
greatness  and  sovereignty. 

"Yes,"  continued  he,  and  his  eyes,  which,  in  spite  of  his 
corpulency  and  his  extremely  fleshy  face,  were  yet  large  and 
wide  open,  shone  more  brightly.  "  Yes,  they  all  tremble  be- 
fore me,  for  they  know  that  I  am  a  righteous  and  powerful 
king,  who  spares  not  his  own  blood,  if  it  is  necessary  to  punish 
and  expiate  crime,  and  with  inexorable  hand  punishes  the  sin- 
ner, though  he  were  the  nearest  to  the  throne.  Take  heed  to  . 
yourself,  therefore,  Kate,  take  heed  to  yourself.  You  behold 
in  me  the  avenger  of  God,  and  the  judge  of  men.  The  king 
wears  the  crimson,  not  because  it  is  beautiful  and  glossy,  but 
because  it  is  red  like  blood,  and  because  it  is  the  king's  highest 
prerogative  to  shed  the  blood  of  his  delinquent  subjects,  and 
thereby  expiate  human  crime.  Thus  only  do  I  conceive  of  roy- 
alty, and  thus  only  will  I  carry  it  out  till  the  end  of  my  days. 
Not  the  right  to  pardon,  but  the  right  to  punish,  is  that  whereby 
the  ruler  manifests  himself  before  the  lower  classes  of  man- 
kind. God's  thunder  should  be  on  his  lips,  and  the  king's  wrath 
should  descend  like  lightning  on  the  head  of  the  guilty." 

"But  God  is  not  only  wrathful,  but  also  merciful  and  for- 
giving," said  Catharine,  as  she  lightly  and  shyly  leaned  her 
head  on  the  king's  shoulder. 

"  Just  that  is  the  prerogative  of  God  above  kings ;  that 


HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  27 

He  can,  as  it  pleases  Him,  show  mercy  and  grace,  where  we 
can  only  condemn  and  punish.  There  must  be  something  in 
which  God  is  superior  to  kings,  and  greater  than  they.  But 
how,  Kate,  you  tremble,  and  the  lovely  smile  has  vanished 
from  your  countenance  !  Be  not  afraid  of  me,  Kate !  Be 
always  frank  with  me,  and  without  deceit ;  then  I  shall  always 
love  you,  and  iniquity  will  then  have  no  power  over  you. 
And  now,  Kate,  tell  me,  and  explain  to  me.  You  do  not 
know  that  you  love  me  ?  " 

"  No,  I  do  not  know,  your  majesty.  And  how  should  I 
be  able  to  recognize,  and  know,  and  designate  by  name  what 
is  strange  to  me,  and  what  I  have  never  before  felt?" 

"How,  you  have  never  loved,  Kate?"  asked  the  king, 
with  a  joyful  expression. 

"  Never.  My  father  maltreated  me,  so  that  I  could  feel 
for  him  nothing  but  dread  and  terror." 

"  And  your  husband,  child  ?  That  man  who  was  my 
predecessor  in  the  possession  of  you.  Did  you  not  love  your 
husband  either?  " 

"  My  husband  ?  "  asked  she,  abstractedly.  "  It  is  true, 
my  father  sold  me  to  Lord  Neville,  and  as  the  priest  had 
joined  our  hands,  men  called  him  my  husband.  But  he  very 
well  knew  that  I  did  not  love  him,  7ior  did  he  require  my  love. 
He  needed  a  nurse,  not  a  wife.  He  had  given  me  his  name 
as  a  father  gives  his  to  a  daughter  ;  and  I  was  his  daughter,  a 
true,  faithful,  and  obedient  daughter,  who  joyfully  fulfilled  her 
duty  and  tended  him  till  his  death." 

u  And  after  his  death,  child?  Years  have  elapsed  since 
then,  Kate.  Tell  me,  and  I  conjure  you,  tell  me  the  truth, 
the  simple,  plain  truth !  After  the  death  of  your  husband, 
then  even,  did  you  never  love?" 

He  gazed  with  visible  anxiety,  with  breathless  expectation, 
deep  into  her  eyes  ;  but  she  did  not  drop  them. 

"  Sire,"  said  she,  with  a  charming  smile,  "  till  a  few  weeks 
past,  I  have  often  mourned  over  myself;  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  must,  in  the  desperation  of  my  singular  and  cold  nature, 


28  HENRY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

lay  open  my  breast,  in  order  to  search  there  for  the  heart, 
which,  senseless  and  cold,  had  never  betrayed  its  existence  by 
its  stronger  beating.  Oh,  sire,  I  was  full  of  trouble  about  my- 
self; and  in  my  foolish  rashness,  I  accused  Heaven  of  having 
robbed  me  of  the  noblest  feeling  and  the  fairest  privilege  of 
any  woman — the  capacity  of  loving." 

"  Till  the  past  few  weeks,  did  you  say,  Kate?"  asked  the 
king,  breathless  with  emotion. 

"  Yes,  sire,  until  the  day  on  which  you,  for  the  first  time, 
graciously  afforded  me  the  happiness  of  speaking  with  me." 

The  king  uttered  a  low  cry,  and  drew  Catharine,  with  im- 
petuous vehemence,  into  his  arms. 

"  And  since,  tell  me  now,  you  dear  little  dove,  since  then, 
does  your  heart  throb  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sire,  it  throbs,  oh,  it  often  throbs  to  bursting !  When 
I  hear  your  voice,  when  I  behold  your  countenance,  it  is  as  if 
a  cold  tremor  rilled  through  my  whole  being,  and  drove  all  my 
blood  to  the  heart.  •  It  is  as  though  my  heart  anticipated  your 
approach  before  my  eyes  discern  you..  For  even  before  you 
draw  near  me,  I  feel  a  peculiar  trembling  of  the  heart,  and  the 
breath  is  stifled  in  my.  bosom  ;  then  I  always  know  that  you  are 
coming,  and  that  your  presence  will  relieve  this  peculiar  tension 
of  my  being.  When  you  are  not  by  me  I  think  of  you,  and 
when  I  sleep  I  dream  of  you.  Tell  me,  sire,  you  who  know 
every  thing,  tell  me,  know  you  now  whether  I  love  you?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  love  me,"  cried  Henry,  to  whom  this 
strange  and  joyous  surprise  had  imparted  youthful  vivacity 
and  warmth.  "  Yes,  Kate,  you  love  me  ;  and  if  I  may  trust 
your  dear  confession,  I  am  your  first  love.  Repeat  it  yet 
again  ;  you  were  nothing  but  a  daughter  to  lord  Neville  ?  " 

"  Nothing  more,  sire  !  " 

"  And  after  him  have  you  had  no  love  ?  " 

"  None,  sire  !  " 

"  And  can  it  be  that  so  happy  a  marvel  has  come  to  pass? 
and  that  I  have  made,  not  a  widow,  but  a  young  maiden,  my 
queen  ?  " 


HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  29 

As  he  now  gazed  at  her  with  warm,  passionate,  tender 
looks,  Catharine  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  a  deep  blush  covered 
her  sweet  face. 

"  Ah,  a  woman's  bashful  blushes,  what  an  exquisite  sight !  " 
cried  the  king,  and  while  he  wildly  pressed  Catharine  to  his 
bosom,  he  continued :  "  Oh,  are  we  not  foolish  and  short- 
sighted men,  all  of  us,  yes,  even  we  kings  ?  In  order  that  I 
might  not  be,  perhaps,  forced  to  send  my  sixth  wife  also  to 
the  scaffold,  I  chose,  in  trembling  dread  of  the  deceitfulness  of 
your  sex,  a  widow  for  my  queen,  and  this  widow  with  a 
blessed  confession,  mocks  at  the  new  law  of  the  wise  Parlia- 
ment, and  makes  good  to  me  what  she  never  promised."  * 

"  Come,  Kate,  give  me  a  kiss.  You  have  opened  be- 
fore me  to-day  a  happy,  blissful  future,  and  prepared  for  me  a 
great  and  unexpected  pleasure.  I  thank  you  for  it,  Kate, 
and  the  Mother  of  God  be  my  witness,  I  will  never  forget  it." 

And  drawing  a  rich  diamond  ring  from  his  own  finger,  and, 
putting  it  upon  Catharine's,  he  continued :  "  Be  this  ring  a 
remembrancer  of  this  hour,  and  when  you  hereafter  present  it 
to  me,  with  a  request,  I  will  grant  that  request,  Kate  ! " 

He  kissed  her  forehead,  and  was  about  to  press  her  more 
closely  in  his  arms,  when  suddenly  from  without  was  heard 
the  dull  roll  of  drums,  and  the  ringing  of  bells. 

The  king  started  a  moment  and  released  Catharine  from 
his  arms.  He  listened  ;  the  roll  of  drums  continued,  and  now 
and  then  was  heard  in  the  distance,  that  peculiar  thundering 
and  yet  sullen  sound,  which  so  much  resembles  the  roar  and 
rush  of  the  sea,  and  which  can  be  produced  only  by  a  large 
and  excited  mob. 

The  king,  with  a  fierce  curse,  pushed  open  the  glass  door 
leading  to  the  balcony,  and  walked  out. 

*  After  Catharine  Howard's  Infidelity  and  Incontlncncy  had  been  proved,  and  she 
liad  atoned  for  them  by  her  death,  Parliament  enacted  a  law  "that  If  the  king  or 
his  successors  should  Intend  to  marry  any  woman  whom  they  took  to  be  a  clean  and 
pure  maid— If  she,  not  being  10,  did  not  declare  the  same  to  the  king,  It  should  be 
high  treason  ;  and  all  who  knew  it,  and  did  not  reveal  It,  were  guilty  of  mlsprlslon 
of  treason."— "Burnct's  History  of  the  Reformation  of  the  Church  of  England."  Lon- 
don, 1681  (vol.  I.,  page  313). 


30  HENKT   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

Catharine  gazed  after  him  with  a  strange,  half-timid,  half- 
scornful  look.  "  I  have  not  at  least  told  him  that  I  love  him," 
muttered  she.  "  He  has  construed  my  words  as  it  suited  his 
vanity.  No  matter.  I  will  not  die  on  the  scaffold  !" 

With  a  resolute  step,  and  firm,  energetic  air,  she  followed 
the  king  to  the  balcony.  The  roll  of  drums  was  kept  up,  and 
from  all  the  steeples  the  bells  were  pealing.  The  night  was 
dark  and  calm.  All  London  seemed  to  slumber,  and  the  dark 
houses  around  about  stood  up  out  of  the  universal  darkness 
like  huge  coffins. 

Suddenly  the  horizon  began  to  grow  bright,  and  on  the  sky 
appeared  a  streak  of  fiery  red,  which,  blazing  up  higher  and 
higher,  soon  illuminated  the  entire  horizon  with  a  crimson 
glow,  and  even  shed  its  glaring  fiery  beams  over  the  balcony 
on  which  stood  the  royal  pair. 

Still  the  bells  clanged  and  clamored ;  and  blended  with 
their  peals  was  heard  now  and  then,  in  the  distance,  a  piercing 
shriek  and  a  clamor  as  of  thousands  and  thousands  of  con- 
fusedly mingled  voices. 

Suddenly  the  king  turned  to  Catharine,  and  his  counte- 
nance, which  was  just  then  overspread  by  the  fire-light  as 
with  a  blood-red  veil,  had  now  assumed  an  expression  of  sav- 
age, demoniacal  delight. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  "  I  know  what  it  is.  You  had  wholly 
bewildered  me,  and  stolen  away  my  attention,  you  little  en- 
chantress. I  had  for  a  moment  ceased  to  be  a  king,  because 
I  wished  to  be  entirely  your  lover.  But  now  I  bethink  me 
again  of  my  avenging  sovereignty !  It  is  the  fagot-piles 
about  the  stake  which  flame  so  merrily  yonder.  And  that 
yelling  and  clamor  indicate  that  my  merry  people  are  enjoy- 
ing with  all  their  soul  the  comedy  which  I  have  had  played 
before  them  to-day,  for  the  honor  of  God,  and  my  unimpeach- 
able royal  dignity." 

"  The  stake  !  "  cried  Catharine,  trembling.  "  Your  ma- 
jesty does  not  mean  thereby  to  say  that  right  yonder,  men 
are  to  die  a  cruel,  painful  death — that  the  same  hour  in  which 


HENRY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  31 

their  king  pronounces  himself  happy  and  content,  some  of  his 
subjects  are  to  he  condemned  to  dreadful  torture,  to  a  horrible 
destruction  !  Oh,  no  !  my  king  will  not  overcloud  his  queen's 
wedding-day  with  so  dark  a  veil  of  death.  He  will  not  wish 
to  dim  my  happiness  so  cruelly." 

The  king  laughed.  ".No,  I  will  not  darken  it,  but  light  it 
up  with  bright  flames,"  said  he ;  and  as,  with  outstretched 
arm,  he  pointed  over  to  the  glaring  heavens,  he  continued : 
"There  are  our  wedding-torches,  my  Kate,  and  the  most 
sacred  and  beautiful  which  I  could  find,  for  they  burn  to  the 
honor  of  God  and  of  the  king.*  And  the  heavenward  flar- 
ing flame  which  carries  up  the  souls  of  the  heretics  will  give 
to  my  God  joyous  intelligence  of  His  most  faithful  and  obedient 
son,  who,  even  on  the  day  of  his  happiness,  forgets  not  his 
kingly  duty,  but  ever  remains  .the  avenging  and  destroying 
minister  of  his  God." 

He  looked  frightful  as  he  thus  spoke.  His  countenance,  lit 
up  by  the  fire,  had  a  fierce,  threatening  expression  ;  his  eyes 
blazed  ;  and  a  cold,  cruel  smile  played  about  his  thin,  firmly- 
pressed  lips. 

"  Oh,  he  knows  no  pity  !  "  murmured  Catharine  to  herself, 
as  in  a  paroxysm  of  anguish  she  stared  at  the  king,  who,  in 
fanatical  enthusiasm,  was  looking  over  toward  the  fire,  into 
which,  at  his  command,  they  were  perhaps  hurling  to  a  cruel, 
torturing  deathr  some  poor  wretch,  to  the  honor  of  God  and 
the  king.  "  No,  he  knows  no  pity  and  no  mercy." 

Now  Henry  turned  to  her,  and  laying  his  extended  hand 
softly  on  the  back  of  her  slender  neck,  he  spanned  it  with  his 
fingers,  and  whispered  in  her  car  tender  words  and  vows  of 
love. 

Catharine  trembled.  This  caress  of  the  king,  however 
harmless  in  itself,  had  in  it  for  her  something  dismal  and 
dreadful.  It  was  the  involuntary,  instinctive  touch  of  the 
headsman,  who  examines  the  neck  of  his  victim,  and  searches 

•  •  •  Lift:  of  King  Hrnry  the  Eighth,  founded  on  Authentic  and  Original  Documents." 
By  Patrick  Frtwr  Tytlcr.    (Edinburgh,  1887,  page  440.) 


32  HENEY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COTTKT. 

on  it  for  the  place  where  he  will  make  the  stroke.  Thus  had 
Anne  Boleyn  once  put  her  tender  white  hands  about  her 
slender  neck,  and  said'  to  the  headsman,  broiight  over  from 
Calais  specially  for  her  execution  :  "  I  pray  you  strike  me  well 
and  surely  !  I  have,  indeed,  but  a  slim  little  neck."  *  Thus 
bad  the  king  clutched  his  hand  about  the  neck  of  Catharine 
Howard,  his  fifth  wife,  when,  certain  of  her  infidelity,  he  had 
thrust  her  from  himself  with  fierce  execrations,  when  she 
would  have  clung  to  him.  The'  dark  marks  of  that  grip  were 
still  visible  upon  her  neck  when  she  laid  it  on  the  block.f 

And  this  dreadful  twining  of  his  fingers  Catharine  must 
noAV  endure  as  a  caress  ;  at  which  she  must  smile,  which  she 
must  receive  with  all  the  appearance  of  delight. 

While  he  spanned  her  neck,  he  whispered  in  her  ear  words 
of  tenderness,  and  bent  his  face  close  to  her  cheeks. 

But  Catharine  heeded  not  his  passionate  whispers.  She 
saw  nothing  save  the  blood-red  handwriting  of  fire  upon  the 
sky.  She  heard  nothing  save  the  shrieks  of  the  wretched 
victims. 

"  Mercy,  mercy  ! "  faltered  she.  "  Oh,  let  this  day  be  a 
day  of  festivity  for  all  your  subjects  !  Be  merciful,  and  if  you 
would  have  me  really  believe  that  you  love  me,  grant  this  first 
request  which  I  make  of  you.  Grant  me  the  lives  of  these 
wretched  ones.  Mercy,  sire,  mercy  !  " 

And  as  if  the  queen's  supplication  had  found  an  echo,  sud- 
denly was  heard  from  the  chamber  a  wailing,  despairing  voice, 
repeating  loudly  and  in  tones  of  anguish  :  "  Mercy,  your  ma- 
jesty, mercy  ! "  The  king  turned  round  impetuously,  and  his 
face  assumed  a  dark,  wrathful  expression.  He  fastened  his 
searching  eyes  on  Catharine,  as  though  he  would  read  in  her 
looks  whether  she  knew  who  had  dared  to  interrupt  their  con- 
versation. 

But  Catharine's  countenance  expressed  unconcealed  aston- 
ishment. "Mercy,  mercy!"  repeated  the  voice  from  the  in- 
terior of  the  chamber. 

*  Tytler,  p.  882.  t  Leti,  vol..  i,  p.  193. 


HENEY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COUET.  33 

The  ting  uttered  an  angry  exclamation,  and  hastily  with- 
drew from  the  balcony. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

KING  BY  THE   WEATH   OP   GOD. 

"  WHO  dares  interrupt  us?"  cried  the  king,  as  with  head- 
long step  he  returned  to  the  chamber — "  who  dares  speak  of 
mercy  ?  " 

"  I  dare  !  "  said  a  young  lady,  who,  pale,  with  distorted 
features,  in  frightful  agitation,  now  hastened  to  the  king  and 
prostrated  herself  before  him. 

"  Anne  Askew  ! "  cried  Catharine,  amazed.  "  Anne,  what 
want  you  here  ?  " 

"  I  want  mercy,  mercy  for  those  wretched  ones,  who  are 
suffering  yonder,"  cried  the  young  maiden,  pointing  with  an 
expression  of  horror  to  the  reddened  sky.  "  I  want  mercy  for 
the  king  himself,  who  is  so  cruel  as  to  send  the  noblest  and 
the  best  of  his  subjects  to  the  slaughter  like  miserable  brutes  ! " 

"Oh,  sire,  have  compassion  on  this  poor  child  !  "  besought 
Catharine,  turning  to  Henry,  compassion  on  her  impassioned 
excitement  and  her  youthful  ardor !  "  She  is  as  yet  unac- 
customed to  these  frightful  scenes— -slio  knows  not  yet  that  it 
is  the  sad  duty  of  kings  to  be  constrained  to  punish,  where 
they  might  prefer  to  pardon  !  " 

Henry  smiled  ;  but  the  look  which  he  cast  on  the  kneeling 
girl  made  Catharine  tremble.  There  was  a  death-warrant  in 
that  look ! 

"  Anne  Askew,  if  I  mistake  not,  is  your  second  maid  of 
honor?"  asked  the  king;  "  and  it  was  at  your  express  wish 
that  she  received  that  place?" 

"  Yes,  sire." 

"You  knew  her,  then?" 

"  No,  sire  !  I  saw  her  a  few  days  ago  for  the  first  time. 
But  site  had  already  won  my  heart  at  our  first  meeting,  and  I 
2* 


34  HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

feel  that  I  shall  love  her.  Exercise  forbearance,  then,  youi 
majesty ! " 

But  the  king  was  still  thoughtful,  and  Catharine's  answers 
did  not  yet  satisfy  him. 

"  Why,  then,  do  you  interest  yourself  for  this  young  lady, 
if  you  did  not  know  her  ?  " 

"  She  has  been  so  warmly  recommended  to  me." 

"By  whom?" 

Catharine  hesitated  a  moment ;  she  felt  that  she  had,  per- 
haps, in  her  zeal,  gone  too  far,  and  that  it  was  imprudent  to 
tell  the  king  the  truth.  But  the  king's  keen,  penetrating  look 
was  resting  on  her,  and  she  recollected  that  he  had,  the  first 
thing  that  evening,  so  urgently  and  solemnly  conjured  her  to 
always  tell  him  the  truth.  Besides,  it  was  no  secret  at  court 
who  the  protector  of  this  young  maiden  was,  and  who  had 
been  the  means  of  her  obtaining  the  place  of  maid  of  honor  to 
the  queen,  a  place  which  so  many  wealthy  and  distinguished 
families  had  solicited  for  their  daughters. 

"Who  recommended  this  lady  to  you?"  repeated  the 
king,  and  already  his  ill-humor  began  to  redden  his  face,  and 
make  his  voice  tremble. 

"  Archbishop  Cranmer  did  so,  sire,"  said  Catharine  as  she 
raised  her  eyes  to  the  king,  and  looked  at  him  with  a  smile 
surpassingly  charming. 

At  that  moment  was  heard  without,  more  loudly,  the  roll 
of  drums,  which  nevertheless  was  partially  drowned  by  pier- 
cing shrieks  and  horrible  cries  of  distress.  The  blaze  of  the 
fire  shot  up  higher,  and  now  was  seen  the  bright  flame,  which 
with  murderous  rage  licked  the  sky  above. 

Anne  Askew,  who  had  kept  respectful  silence  during  the 
conversation  of  the  royal  pair,  now  felt  herself  completely 
overcome  by  this  horrible  sight,  and  bereft  of  the  last  remnant 
of  self-possession. 

"  My  God,  my  God  ! "  said  she,  quivering  from  the  inter- 
nal tremor,  and  stretching  her  hands  beseechingly  toward  the 
king,  "do  you  not  hear  that  frightful  wail  of  the  wretched? 


HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  35 

Sire,  by  the  thought  of  your  own  dying  hour,  I  conjure  you 
have  compassion  on  these  miserable  beings  !  Let  them  not,  at 
least,  be  thrown  alive  into  the  flames.  Spare  them  this  last 
frightful  torture." 

King  Henry  cast  a  wrathful  look  on  the  kneeling  girl ;  then 
strode  past  her  to  the  door,  which  led  into  the  adjoining  hall, 
in  which  the  courtiers  were  waiting  for  their  king. 

He  beckoned  to  the  two  bishops,  Cranmer  and  Gardiner, 
to  come  nearer,  and  ordered  the  servants  to  throw  the  hall 
doors  wide  open. 

The  scene  now  afforded  an  animated  and  singular  specta- 
cle, and  this  chamber,  just  before  so  quiet,  was  suddenly 
changed  to  the  theatre  of  a  great  drama,  which  was  perhaps 
to  end  tragically.  In  the  queen's  bedchamber,  a  small  room, 
but  furnished  with  the  utmost  luxury  and  splendor,  the  prin- 
cipal characters  of  this  scene  were  congregated.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  the  space  stood  the  king  in  his  robes,  embroidered  with 
gold  and  sparkling  with  jewels,  which  were  irradiated  by 
the  bright  light  of  the  chandelier.  Near  him  was  seen  the 
young  queen,  whose  beautiful  and  lovely  face  was  turned  in 
anxious  expectation  toward  the  king,  in  whose  stern  and 
rigid  features  she  sought  to  read  the  development  of  this 
scene. 

Not  far  from  her  still  knelt  the  young  maiden,  hiding  in 
her  hands  her  face  drenched  in  tears  ;  while  farther  away,  in 
the  background,  were  the  two  bishops  observing  with  grave, 
cool  tranquillity  the  group  before  them.  Through  the  open 
hall  doors  were  descried  the  expectant  and  curious  counte- 
nances of  the  courtiers  standing  with  their  heads  crowded  close 
together  in  the  space  before  the  doors  ;  and,  opposite  to  them, 
through  the  open  door  leading  to  the  balcony,  was  seen  the 
fiery,  blazing  sky,  and  heard  the  clanging  of  the  bells  and  the 
rolling  of  the  drums,  the  piercing  shrieks  and  the  yells  of  the 
people.  • 

A  deep  silence  ensued,  and  when  the  king  spoke,  the  tone 
of  his  voice  was  so  hard  and  cold,  that  an  involuntary  shudder 
ran  through  all  present.  , 


36  HENKT  virr.  AND  ms  COURT. 

"  My  Lord  Bishops  of  Winchester  and  Canterbury,"  said 
the  king,  "  we  have  called  you  that  you  may,  by  the  might 
of  your  prayers  and  the  wisdom  of  your  words,  rid  this  young 
girl  here  from  the  devil,  who,  without  doubt,  has  the  mastery 
over  her,  since  she  dares  charge  her  king  and  master  with 
cruelty  and  injustice." 

The  two  bishops  drew  nearer  to  the  kneeling  girl ;  each 
laid  a  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  and  bent  over  her,  but  the  one 
with  an  expression  of  countenance  wholly  different  from  that 
of  the  other. 

Cranmer's  look  was  gentle  and  serious,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  compassionate  and  encouraging  smile  played  about 
his  thin  lips. 

Gardiner's  features  on  the  contrary  bore  the  expression  of 
cruel,  cold-hearted  irony;  and  the  smile  which  rested  on  his 
thick,  protruding  lips  was  the  joyful  and  merciless  smile  of  a 
priest  ready  to  sacrifice  a  victim  to  his  idol. 

'•  Courage  my  daughter,  courage  and  prudence  ! "  whispered 
Cranmer. 

"  God,  who  blesses  the  righteous  and  punishes  and  de- 
stroys sinners,  be  with  thee  and  with  us  all !  "  said  Gardiner. 

But  Anne  Askew  recoiled  with  a  shudder  from  the  touch 
of  his -hand,  and  with  an  impetuous  movement  pushed  it  away 
from  her  shouider. 

"  Touch  me  not ;  you  are  the  hangman  of  those  poor 
people  whom  they  are  putting  to  death  down  yonder,"  said  she 
impetuously  ;  and  as  she  turned  to  the  king  and  extended  her 
hands  imploringly  toward  him,  she  cried :  "  Mercy,  King 
Henry,  mercy ! " 

"Mercy!"  repeated  the  king,  "mercy,  and  for  whom? 
Who  are  they  that  they  are  putting  to  death  down  there? 
Tell  me,  forsooth,  my  lord  bishops,  who  are  they  that  are  led 
to  the  stake  to-day?  Who  are  the  condemned?" 

"  They  are  heretics,  who  devote  themselves  to  this  new 
false  doctrine  which  has  come  over  to  us  from  Germany,  and 
who  dare  refuse  to  recognize  the  spiritual  supremacy  of  our 
lord  and  king,"  said  Bishop  Gardiner. 


HENRY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  37 

"  They  are  "Roman  Catholics,  who  regard  the  Pope  of  Rome 
as  the  chief  shepherd  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  and  will  regard 
nobody  but  him  as  their  lord,"  said  Bishop  Cranmer. 

"  Ah,  behold  this  youug  maiden  accuses  us  of  injustice," 
cried  the  king  ;  "  and  yet,  you  say  that  not  heretics  alone  are 
executed  down  there,  but  also  Romanists.  It  appears  to  me 
then  that  we  have  justly  and  impartially,  as  always,  punished 
only  criminals  and  given  over  the  guilty  to  justice." 

"  Oh,  had  you  seen  what  I  have  seen,"  said  Anne  Askew, 
shuddering,  "  then  would  you  collect  all  your  vital  energies 
for  a  single  cry,  for  a  single  word — mercy !  and  that  Avord 
would  you  shout  out  loud  enough  to  reach  yon  frightful  place 
of  torture  and  horror." 

"  What  saw  you,  then?"  asked  the  king,  smiling. 

Anne  Askew  had  stood  up,  and  her  tall,  slender  form  now 
lifted  itself,  like  a  lily,  between  the  sombre  forms  of  the 
bishops.  Her  eye  was  fixed  and  glaring ;  her  noble  and  deli- 
cate features  bore  the  expression  of  horror  and  dread. 

"  I  saw,"  said  she,  "  a  woman  whom  they  were  leading  to 
execution.  Not  a  criminal,  but  a  noble  lady,  whose  proud 
and  lofty  heart  never  harbored  a  thought  of  treason  or  disloy- 
alty, but  who,  true  to  her  faith  and  her  convictions,  woukl  not 
forswear  the  God  whom  she  served.  As  she  passed  through 
the  crowd,  it  seemed  as  if  a  halo  encompassed  her  head,  and 
covered  her  white  hair  with  silvery  rays ;  all  bowed  before 
her,  and  the  hardest  natures  wept  over  the  unfortunate  woman 
who  had  lived  more  than  seventy  years,  and  yet  was  not  al- 
lowed to  die  in  her  bed,  but  was  to  be  slaughtered  to  the  glory 
of  God  and  of  the  king.  But  she  smiled,  and  graciously  sa- 
luting the  weeping  and  sobbing  multitude,  she  advanced  to  the 
scaffold  as  if  she  were  ascending  a  throne  to  receive  the  homage 
of  her  people.  Two  years  of  imprisonment  had  blanched  her 
check,  but  had  not  been  able  to  destroy  the  fire  of  her  eyo,  or 
the  strength  of  her  mind,  and  seventy  years  had  not  bowed 
her  nock  or  broken  her  spirit.  Proud  and  firm,  she  mounted 
the  steps  of  the  scaffold,  and  once  more  saluted  the  people  and 


38  HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COTJKT. 

cried  aloud, '  I  will  pray  to  God  for  you/  But  as  the  headsman 
approached  and  demanded  that  she  should  allow  her  hands  to  he 
bound,  and  that  she  should  kneel  in  order  to  lay  her  head  upon 
the  block,  she  refused,  and  angrily  pushed  him  away.  '  Only 
traitors  and  criminals  lay  their  head  on  the  hlock  ! '  exclaimed 
she,  with  a  loud,  thundering  voice.  '  There  is  no  occasion  for 
me  to  do  so,  and  I  will  not  submit  to  your  bloody  laws  as  long 
as  there  is  a  breath  in  me.  Take,  then,  my  life,  if  you  can.' 

"  And  now  began  a  scene  which  filled  the  hearts  of  the 
lookers-on  with  fear  and  horror.  The  countess  flew  like  a 
hunted  beast  round  and  round  the  scaffold.  Her  white  hair 
streamed  in  the  wind  ;  her  black  grave-clothes  rustled  around 
her  like  a  dark  cloud,  and  behind  her,  with  uplifted  axe,  came 
the  headsman,  in  his  fiery  red  dress  ;  he,  ever  endeavoring  to 
strike  her  with  the  falling  axe,  but  she,  ever  trying,  by  moving 
her  head  to  and  fro,  to  evade  the  descending  stroke.  But  at 
length  her  resistance  became  weaker ;  the  blows  of  the  axe 
reached  her,  and  stained  her  white  hair,  hanging  loose  about 
her  shoulders,  with  crimson  streaks.  With  a  heart-rending 
cry,  she  fell  fainting.  Near  her,  exhausted  also,  sank  down 
the  headsman,  bathed  in  sweat.  This  horrible  wild  chase  had 
lamed 'his  arm  and  broken  his  strength.  Panting  and  breath- 
less, he  was  not  able  to  drag  this  fainting,  bleeding  woman  to 
the  block,  or  to  lift  up  the  axe  to  separate  her  noble  head  from 
the  body.*  The  crowd  shrieked  with  distress  and  horror,  im- 
ploring and  begging  for  mercy,  and  even  the  lord  chief  jus- 
tice could  not  refrain  from  tearsj  and  he  ordered  the  cruel 
work  to  be  suspended  until  the  countess  and  the  headsman 
should  have  regained  strength  ;  for  a  living,  not  a  dying  person 
was  to  be  executed :  thus  said  the  law.  They  made  a  pallet 
for  the  countess  on  the  scaffold  and  endeavored  to  restore  her ; 
invigorating  wine  was  supplied  to  the  headsman,  to  renew  his 
strength  for  the  work  of  death ;  and  the  crowd  turned  to  the 
stakes  which  were  prepared  on  both  sides  of  the  scaffold,  and 
at  which  four  other  martyrs  were  to  be  burnt.  But  I  flew 

*  Tytler,  pago  430. 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS    COURT.  39 

here  like  a  hunted  doe,  and  now,  king,  I  lie  at  your  feet. 
There  is  still  time.  Pardon,  king,  pardon  for  the  Countess 
of  Somerset,  the  last  of  the  Plantagenets." 

"  Pardon,  sire,  pardon !  "  repeated  Catharine  Parr,  weep- 
ing and  trembling,  as  she  clung  to  her  husband's  side. 

"  Pardon  ! "  repeated  Archbishop  Cranmer  ;  and  a  few  of 
the  courtiers  reechoed  it  in  a  timid  and  anxious  whisper. 

The  king's  large,  brilliant  eyes  glanced  around  the  whole 
assembly,  with  a  quick,  penetrating  look.  "  And  you,  my 
Lord  Bishop  Gardiner,"  asked  he,  in  a  cold,  sarcastic  tone, 
"  will  you  also  ask  for  mercy,  like  all  these  weak-hearted  souls 
here?" 

;'  The  Lord  our  God  is  a  jealous  God,"  said  Gardiner,  sol- 
emnly, "  and  it  is  written  that  God  will  punish  the  sinner  unto 
the  third  and  fourth  generation." 

"  And  what  is  written  shall  stand  true  !  "  exclaimed  the 
king,  in  a  voice  of  thunder.  "  No  mercy  for  evil-doers,  no 
pity  for  criminals.  The  axe  must  fall  upon  the  head  of  the 
guilty,  the  flames  shall  consume  the  bodies  of  criminals." 

"  Sire,  think  of  your  high  vocation  !  "  exclaimed  Anne  As- 
kew, in  a  tone  of  enthusiasm.  "  Reflect  wha£  a  glorioxis  name 
you  have  assumed  to  yourself  in  this  land.  You  call  yourself 
the  head  of  the  Church,  and  you  want  to  rule  and  govern  upon 
earth  in  God's  stead.  Exercise  mercy,  then,  for  you  entitle 
yourself  king  by  the  grace  of  God." 

"  No,  I  do  not  call  myself  king  by  God's  grace  ;  I  call  my- 
self king  by  God's  wrath ! "  exclaimed  Henry,  as  he  raised 
his  arm  menacingly.  "  It  is  my  duty  to  send  sinners  to  God  ; 
may  lie  have  mercy  on  them  there  above,  if  He  will !  I  am 
the  punishing  judge,  and  I  judge  mercilessly,  according  to  the 
law,  without  compassion.  Let  those  whom  I  have  condemned 
appeal  to  God,  and  may  He  have  mercy  upon  them.  I  can- 
not do  it,  nor  will  I.  Kings  are  here  to  punish,  and^hey  are 
like  to  God,  not  in  His  love,  but  in  His  avenging  wrath." 

"  Woe,  then,  woe  to  you  and  to  all  of  us !  "  exclaimed 
Anne  Askew.  "Woe  to  you,  King  Henry,  if  what  you  now 


40  HENKY   Vni.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

say  is  the  truth  !  Then  are  they  right,  those  men  who  are  bound 
to  yonder  stakes,  when  they  brand  you  with  the  name  of  ty- 
rant ;  then  is  the  Bishop  of  Rome  right  when  he  upbraids  you 
as  an  apostate  and  degenerate  son,  and  hurls  his  anathemas 
against  you !  Then  you  know  not  God,  who  is  love  and  mer- 
cy ;  then  you  are  no  disciple  of  the  Saviour,  who  has  said, 
'  Love  your  enemies,  bless  them  that  curse  you.'  Woe  to  you, 
King  Henry,  if  matters  are  really  so  bad  with  you  ;  if —  " 

"  Silence,  unhappy  woman,  silence  ! "  exclaimed  Catharine  ; 
and  as  she  vehemently  pushed  away  the  furious  girl  she  grasped 
the  king's  hand,  and  pressed  it  to  her  lips.  "  Sire,"  whispered 
she,  with  intense  earnestness,  "  sire,  you  told  me  just  now  tha 
you  loved  me.  Prove  it  by  pardoning  this  maiden,  and  hav- 
ing consideration  for  her  impassioned  excitement.  Prove  it 
by  allowing  me  to  lead  Anne  Askew  to  her  room  and  enjoin 
silence  upon  her." 

But  at  this  moment  the  king  was  whoUy  inaccessible  to 
any  other  feelings  than  those  of  anger  and  delight  in  blood. 

He  indignantly  repelled  Catharine,  and  without  moving  his 
sharp,  penetrating  look  from  the  young  maiden,  he  said  in  a 
quick,  hollow  tone  :  "  Let  her  alone  ;  let  her  speak  ;  let  no  one 
dare  to  interrupt  her  ! " 

Catharine,  trembling  with  anxiety  and  inwardly  hurt  at  the 
harsh  manner  of  the  king,  retired  with  a  sigh  to  the  embrasure 
of  one  of  the  windows. 

Anne  Askew  had  not  noticed  what  was  going  on  about  her. 
She  remained  in  that  state  of  exaltation  which  cares  for  no 
consequences  and  which  trembles  before  no  danger.  She 
would  at  this  moment  have  gone  to  the  stake  with  cheerful 
alacrity,  and  she  almost  longed  for  this  blessed  martyrdom^ 

"Speak,  Anne  Askew,  speak!"  commanded  the  king. 
ft  'XS11  me,  do  you  know  what  the  countess,  for  whose  pardon 
you  are  beseeching  me,  has  done  ?  Know  you  why  those  four 
men  were  sent  to  the  stake  ?  " 

"  I  do  know,  King  Henry,  by  the  wrath  of  God,"  said  the 
maiden,  with  burning  passionateness.  "  I  know  why  you  have 


HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

sent  the  noble  countess  to  the  slaughter-house,  and  why  you 
will  exercise  no  mercy  toward  her.  She  is  of  noble,  of  royal 
blood,  and  Cardinal  Pole  is  her  son.  You  would  punish  the 
son  through  the  mother,  and  because  you  cannot  throttle  the 
cardinal,  you  murder  his  mother." 

"  Oh,  you  are  a  very  knowing  child !"  cried  the  king,  with 
an  inhuman,  ironical  laugh.  "  You  know  my  most  secret 
thoughts  and  my  most  hidden  feelings.  Without  doubt  you 
are  a  good  papist,  since  the  death  of  the  popish  countess  fills 
you  with  such  heart-rending  grief.  Then  you  must  confess,  at 
the  least,  that  it  is  right  to  burn  the  four  heretics  ! " 

"  Heretics  !  "  exclaimed  Anne,  enthusiastically,  "  call  you 
heretics  those  noble  men  who  go  gladly  and  boldly  to  death  for 
their  convictions  and  their  faith  ?  King  Henry !  King  Henry  ! 
Woe  to  you  if  these  men  are  condemned  as  heretics !  They 
alone  are  the  faithful,  they  are  the  true  servants  of  God.  They 
have  freed  themselves  from  human  supremacy,  and  as  you 
would  not  recognize  the  pope,  so  they  will  not  recognize  you 
as  head  of  the  Church  !  God'alone,  they  say,  is  Lord  of  the 
Church  and  Master  of  their  conscience*,  and  who  can  be  pre- 
sumptuous enough  to  call  them  criminals?" 

"  I ! "  exclaimed  Henry  the  Eighth,  in  a  powerful  tone 
"  I  dare  do  it.  I  say  that  they  are  heretics,  and  that  I  will 
destroy  them,  will  tread  them  all  beneath  my  feet,  all  of  them, 
all  who  think  as  they  do  !  I  say  that  I  will  shed  the  blood  of 
these  criminals,  and  prepare  for  them  torments  at  which  human 
nature  will  shudder  and  quake.  God  will  manifest  Himself  by 
me  in  fire  and  blood  !  He  has  put  the  sword  into  my  hand,  and 
I  will  wield  it  for  His  glory.  Like  St.  George,  I  will  tread  the 
dragon  of  heresy  beneath  my  feet ! " 

And  haughtily  raising  his  crimsoned  face  and  rolling  his 
great  bloodshot  eyes  wildly  around  the  circle,  he  continued : 
"  IK'ar  this  all  of  you  who  are  here  assembled  ;  no  mercy  for 
heretics,  no  pardon  for  papists.  It  is  I,  I  alone,  whom  the 
Lord  our  God  has  chosen  and  blessed  as  His  hangman  and 
executioner !  I  am  the  high-priest  of  His  Church,  and  he  who 


4:2  HENKT   Vm.    AND    HIS   COUKT. 

dares  deny  me,  denies  God  ;  and  he  who  is  so  presumptuous  as 
to  do  reverence  to  any  other  head  of  the  Church,  is  a  priest  of 
Baal  and  kneels  to  an  idolatrous  image.  Kneel  down  all  of 
you  before  me,  and  reverence  in  me  God,  whose  earthly  repre- 
sentative I  am,  and  who  reveals  Himself  through  me  in  His 
fearful  and  exalted  majesty.  Kneel  down,  for  I  am  sole  head 
of  the  Church  and  high-priest  of  our  God  ! " 

And  as  if  at  one  blow  all  knees  bent ;  all  those  haughty 
cavaliers,  those  ladies  sparkling  with  jewels  and  gold,  even  the 
two  bishops  and  the  queen  fell  upon  the  ground. 

The  king  gazed  for  a  moment  on  this  sight,  and,  with  ra- 
diant looks  and  a  smile  of  triumph,  his  eyes  ran  over  this 
assembly,  consisting  of  the  noblest  of  his  kingdom,  humbled 
before  him. 

Suddenly  they  were  fastened  on  Anne  Askew. 

She  alone  had  not  bent  her  knee,  but  stood  in  the  midst  of 
the  kneelers,  proud  and  upright  as  the  king  himself. 

A  dark  cloud  passed  over  the  king's  countenance. 

"  You  obey  not  my  command?  "  asked  he. 

She  shook  her  cuady  head  and  fixed  on  him  a  steady, 
piercing  look.  "  No,"  said  she,  "  like  those  over  yonder 
whose  last  death-groan  we  even  now  hear,  like  them,  I  say : 
To  God  alone  is  honor  due,  and  He  alone  is  Lord  of  His 
Church  !  If  you  wish  me  to  bend  my  knee  before  you  as  my 
king,  I  will  do  it,  but  I  bow  not  to  you  as  the  head  of  the 
holy  Church!" 

A  murmur  of  surprise  flew  through  the  assembly,  and  every 
eye  was  turned  with  fear  arid  amazement  on  this  bold  young 
girl,  who  confronted  the  king  with  a  countenance  smiling  and 
glowing  with  enthusiasm. 

At  a  sign  from  Henry  the  kneelers  arose  and  awaited  in 
breathless  silence  the  terrible  scene  that  was  coming. 

A  pause  ensued.  King  Henry  himself  was  struggling  for 
breath,  and  needed  a  moment  to  collect  himself. 

Not  as  though  wrath  and  passion  had  deprived  him  of 
speech.  He  was  neither  wrathful  nor  passionate,  and  it  was 


HEKRY  Vin.    AND    HIS   COURT.  43 

only  joy  that  obstructed  his  breathing — the  joy  of  having  again 
found  a  victim  with  which  he  might  satisfy  his  desire  for  blood, 
on  whose  agony  he  might  feast  his  eyes,  whose  dying  sigh  he 
might  greedily  inhale. 

The  king  was  never  more  cheerful  than  when  he  had  signed 
a  death-warrant.  For  then  he  was  in  full  enjoyment  of  his 
greatness  as  lord  over  the  lives  and  deaths  of  millions  of  other 
men,  and  this  feeling  made  him  proud  and  happy,  and  fully 
conscious  of  his  exalted  position. 

Hence,  as  he  now  turned  to  Anne  Askew,  his  countenance 
was  calm  and  serene,  and  his  voice  friendly,  almost  tender. 

"  Anne  Askew,"  said  he,  "  do  you  know  that  the  words 
you  have  now  spoken  make  you  guilty  of  high  treason  ?  " 

"  I  know  it,  sire." 

"  And  you  know  what  punishment  awaits  traitors  ?  " 

"  Death,  I  know  it." 

"  Death  by  fire  1 "  said  the  king  with  perfect  calmness  and 
composure. 

A  hollow  murmur  ran  through  the  assembly.  Only  one 
voice  dared  give  utterance  to  the  word  ^ercy. 

It  was  Catharine,  the  king's  consort,  who  spoke  this  one 
word.  She  stepped  forward,  and  was  about  to  rush  to  the 
king  and  once  more  implore  his  mercy  and  pity.  But  she  felt 
herself  gently  held  back.  Archbishop  Cranmer  stood  near 
her,  regarding  her  with  a  serious  and  beseeching  look. 

"  Compose  yourself,  compose  yourself,"  murmured  he. 
"  You  cannot  save  her ;  she  is  lost.  Think  of  yourself,  and 
of  the  pure  and  holy  religion  whose  protectress  you  are.  Pre- 
serve yourself  for  your  Church  and  your  companions  in  the 
faith !" 

"  And  must  she  die?  "  asked  Catharine,  whose  eyes  filled 
with  tears  as  she  looked  toward  the  poor  young  child,  who 
was  confronting  the  king  with  such  a  beautiful  and  innocent 
smile. 

"  Perhaps  we  may  still  save  her,  but  this  is  not  the  moment 
for  it.  Any  opposition  now  would  only  irritate  the  king  tho 


M  HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTJBT. 

more,  and  he  might  cause  the  girl  to  be  instantly  thrown  into 
the  flames  of  the  fires  still  burning  yonder !  So  let  us  be 
silent." 

"  Yes,  silence,"  murmured  Catharine,  with  a  shudder,  as 
she  withdrew  again  to  the  embrasure  of  the  window. 

"  Death  by  fire  awaits  you,  Anne  Askew  ! "  repeated  the 
king.  "No  mercy  for  the  traitress  who  vilifies  and  scoffs 
at  her  king  !  " 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE   RIVALS. 

AT  the  very  moment  when  the  king  was  pronouncing,  in  a 
voice  almost  exultant,  Anne  Askew's  sentence  of  death,  one 
of  the  king's  cavaliers  appeared  on  the  threshold  of  the  royal 
chamber  and  advanced  toward  the  king. 

He  was  a  young  man  of  noble  and  imposing  appearance, 
whose  lofty  bearing  contrasted  strangely  with  the  humble  and 
submissive  attitude  of  the  rest  of  the  courtiers.  His  tall,  slim 
form  was  clad  in  a  coat  of  mail  glittering  with  gold  ;  over  his 
shoulders  hung  a  velvet  mantle  decorated  with  a  princely 
crown  ;  and  his  head,  covered  with  dark  ringlets,  was  adorned 
with  a  cap  embroidered  with  gold,  from  which  a  long  white 
ostrich-feather  drooped  to  his  shoulder.  His  oval  face  pre- 
sented the  full  type  of  aristocratic  beauty  ;  his  cheeks  were  of 
a  clear,  transparent  paleness  ;  about  his  slightly  pouting  mouth 
played  a  smile,  half  contemptuous  and  half  languid  ;  the  high, 
arched  brow  and  delicately  chiselled  aquiline  nose  gave  to  his 
face  an  expression  at  once  bold  and  thoughtful.  The  eyes 
alone  were  not  in  harmony  with  his  face  ;  they  were  neither 
languid  like  the  mouth,  nor  pensive  like  the  brow.  All  the 
fire  and  all  the  bold  and  wanton  passion  of  youth  shot  from 
those  dark,  flashing  eyes.  When  he  looked  down,  he  might 
have  been  taken  for  a  completely  worn-out,  misanthropic 


HENtfT  Vm.    AND   HIS  COTIRT.  45 


aristocrat  ;  but  when  he  raised  those  ever-flashing  and  spark- 
ling eyes,  then  was  seen  the  young  man  full  of  dashing  courage 
and  ambitious  desires,  of  passionate  warmth,  and  measureless 
pride. 

He  approached  the  king,  as  already  stated,  and  as  he  bent 
his  knee  before  him,  he  said  in  a  full,  pleasant  voice  :  "  Mercy 
sire,  mercy  1  " 

The  king  stepped  back  in  astonishment,  and  turned  upon 
the  bold  speaker  a  look  almost  of  amazement. 

"  Thomas  Seymour  !  "  said  he.  "  Thomas,  you  have-  re- 
turned, then,  and  your  first  act  is  again  an  indiscretion  and  a 
piece  of  foolhardy  rashness  ?  " 

The  young  man  smiled.  "  I  have  returned,  said  he,  that 
is  to  say,  I  have  had  a  sea-fight  with  the  Scots  and  taken  from 
them  four  men-of-war.  With  these  I  hastened  hither  to  pre- 
sent them  to  you,  my  king  and  lord,  as  a  wedding-gift,  and 
just  as  I  entered  the  anteroom  I  heard  your  voice  pronoun- 
cing a  sentence  of  death.  Was  it  not  natural,  then,  that  I, 
who  bring  you  tidings  of  a  victory,  should  have  the  heart  to 
utter  a  prayer  for  mercy,  for  which,  as  it  seems,  none  of  these 
noble  and  proud  cavaliers  could  summon  up  courage?" 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  king,  evidently  relieved  and  fetching  a 
deep  breath,  "  then  you  knew  not  at  all  for  whom  and  for 
what  you  were  imploring  pardon  ?  " 

"  Yet  !  "  said  the  young  man,  and  his  bold  glance  ran  with 
an  expression  of  contempt  over  the  whole  assembly  —  "  yet,  I 
saw  at  once  who  the  condemned  must  be,  for  I  saw  this  young 
maiden  forsaken  by  all  as  if  stricken  by  the  plague,  standing 
alone  in  the  midst  of  this  exalted  and  brave  company.  And 
you  well  know,  my  noble  king,  that  at  court  one  recognizes  the 
condemned  and  those  fallen  into  disgrace  by  this,  that  every 
one  flics  from  them,  and  nobody  has  the  courage  to  touch  such 
a  leper  even  with  the  tip  of  his  finger  !  " 

King  Henry  smiled.  "  Thomas  Seymour,  Earl  of  Sudley, 
you  are  now,  as  ever,  imprudent  and  hasty,"  said  he.  "  You 
beg  for  mercy  without  once  knowing  whether  she  for  whom 
you  beg  it  is  worthy  of  mercy." 


46  HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

"  But  I  see  that  she  is  a  woman,"  said  the  intrepid  young 
earl.  "  And  a  woman  is  always  worthy  of  mercy,  and  it  be- 
comes every  knight  to  come  forward  as  her  defender,  were  it 
but  to  pay  homage  to  her  sex,  so  fair  and  so  frail,  and  yet  so 
noble  and  mighty.  Therefore  I  beg  mercy  for  this  young 
maiden  ! " 

Catharine  had  listened  to  the  young  earl  with  throbbing 
heart  and  flushed  cheeks.  It  was  the  first  time  that  she  had 
seen  him,  and  yet  she  felt  for  him  a  warm  sympathy,  an 
almost  tender  anxiety. 

"He  will  plunge  himself  into  ruin,"  murmured  she  ;  "he 
will  not  save  Anne,  but  will  make  himself  unhappy.  My 
God,  my  God,  have  a  little  compassion  and  pity  on  my  an- 
guish ! " 

She  now  fixed  her  anxious  gaze  on  the  king,  firmly  re- 
solved to  rush  to  the  help  of  the  earl,  who  had  so  nobly  and 
magnanimously  interested  himself  in  an  innocent  woman,  should 
the  wrath  of  her  husband  threaten  him  also.  But,  to  her  sur- 
prise, Henry's  face  was  perfectly  serene  and  contented. 

Like  the  wild  beast,  that,  following  its  instinct,  seeks  its 
bloody  prey  only  so  long  as  it  is  hungry,  so  King  Henry  felt 
satiated  for  the  day.  Yonder  glared  the  fires  about  the  stake, 
at  which  four  heretics  were  burned ;  there  stood  the  scaffold 
on  which  the  Countess  of.  Somerset  had  just  been  executed ; 
and  now,  within  this  hour,  he  had  already  found  another  new 
victim  for  death.  Moreover,  Thomas  Seymour  had  always 
been  his  favorite.  His  audacity,  his  liveliness,  his  energy, 
had  always  inspired  the  king  with  respect ;  and  then,  again, 
he  so  much  resembled  his  sister,  the  beautiful  Jane  Seymour, 
Henry's  third  wife. 

"  I  cannot  grant  you  this  favor,  Thomas,"  said  the  king. 
"  Justice  must  not  be  hindered  in  her  course,  and  where  she 
has  passed  sentence,  mercy  must  not  give  her  the  lie  ;  and  it 
was  the  justice  of  your  king  which  pronounced  sentence  at  that 
moment.  You  were  guilty,  therefore,  of  a  double  wrong,  for 
you  not  only  besought  mercy,  but  you  also  brought  an  accusa- 


Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  4:7 

tion  against  my  cavaliers.  Do  you  really  believe  that,  were 
this  maiden's  cause  a  just  one,  no  knight  would  have  been 
found  for  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  really  believe  it,"  cried  the  earl,  with  a  laugh. 
"  The  sun  of  your  favor  had  turned  away  from  this  poor  girl, 
and  in  such  a  case  your  courtiers  no  longer  see  the  figure 
wrapped  in  darkness." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  my  lord ;  I  have  seen  it,"  suddenly 
said  another  voice,  and  a  second  cavalier  advanced  from  the 
anteroom  into  the  chamber.  He  approached  the  king,  and,  as 
he  bent  his  knee  before  him,  he  said,  in  a  loud,  steady  voice  : 
"  Sire,  I  also  beg  mercy  for  Anne  Askew  !  " 

At  this  moment  was  heard  from  that  side  of  the  room  where 
the  ladies  stood,  a  low  cry,  and  the  pale,  affrighted  face  of 
Lady  Jane  Douglas  was  for  a  moment  raised  above  the  heads 
of  the  other  ladies.  No  one  noticed  it.  All  eyes,  were  direct- 
ed toward  the  group  in  the  middle  of  the  room ;  all  looked 
with  eager  attention  upon  the  king  and  these  two  young  men, 
who  dared  protect  one  whom  he  had  sentenced. 

"  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey  ! "  exclaimed  the  king  ; 
and  now  an  expression  of  wrath  passed  over  his  countenance. 
"  How !  you,  too,  dare  intercede  for  this  girl  ?  You,  then, 
grudge  Thomas  Seymour  the  preeminence  of  being  the  most 
indiscreet  man  at  my  court?" 

"  I  will  not  allow  him,  sire,  to  think  that  he  is  the  brav- 
est," replied  the  young  man,  as  he  fixed  on  Thomas  Seymour 
a  look  of  haughty  defiance,  which  the  other  answered  by  a 
cold,  disdainful  smile. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  "  I  willingly 
allow  you,  iRy  dear  Earl  of  Surrey,  to  tread  behind  me,  at  your 
convenience,  the  path,  the  safety  of  which  I  first  tested  at  tho 
peril  of  my  life.  You  saw  that  I  had  not,  as  yet,  lost  either 
my  head  or  my  life  in  this  reckless  undertaking,  and  that  has 
given  you  courage  to  follow  my  example.  That  is  a  new  proof 
of  your  prudent  valor,  my  Honorable  Earl  of  Surrey,  and  I 
must  praise  you  for  it." 


4:8  HENKT   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT, 

A  hot  flush  suffused  the  noble  face  of  the  earl,  his  eyes  shot 
lightning,  and,  trembling  with  rage,  he  laid  his  hand  on  his 
sword.  "  Praise  from  Thomas  Seymour  is — " 

"  Silence  !  "  interposed  the  king,  imperatively.  "It  must 
not  be  said  that  two  of  the  noblest  cavaliers  of  my  court  have 
turned  the  day,  which  should  be  one  of  festivity  to  all  of  you, 
into  a  day  of  contention.  I  command  you,  therefore,  to  be 
reconciled.  Shake  hands,  my  lords,  and  let  your  reconciliation 
be  sincere.  I,  the  king,  command  it !  " 

The  young  men  gazed  at  each  other  with  looks  of  hatred 
and  smothered  rage,  and  their  eyes  spoke  the  insulting  and  de- 
fiant words  which  their  lips  durst  no  longer  utter.  The  king 
had  ordered,  and,  however  great  and  powerful  they  might  be, 
the  king  was  to  be  obeyed.  They,  therefore,  extended  their 
hands  to  each  other,  and  muttered  a  few  low,  unintelligible 
words,  which  might  be,  perhaps,  a  mutual  apology,  but  which 
neither  of  them  understood. 

"  And  now,  sire,"  said  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  "  now  I  venture 
to  reiterate  my  prayer.  .  Mercy,  your  majesty,  mercy  for  Anne 
Askew ! " 

"And  you,  Thomas  Seymour,  do  you  also  renew  your  pe- 
tition?" 

"  No,  I  withdraw  it.  Earl  Surrey  protects  her  ;  I,  there- 
fore, retire,  for  without  doubt  she  is  a  criminal ;  your  majes- 
ty says  so,  and,  therefore,  it  is  so.  It  would  ill  become  a  Sey- 
mour to  protect  a  person  who  has  sinned  against  the  king." 

This  new  indirect  attack  on  Earl  Surrey  seemed  to  make 
on  all  present  a  deep,  but  very  varied  impression.  Here,  faces 
were  seen  to  turn  pale,  and  there,  to  light  up  with  a  malicious 
smile  ;  here,  compressed  lips  muttered  words  of  rareatening, 
there,  a  mouth  opened  to  express  approbation  and  agree- 
ment. 

The  king's  brow  was  clouded  and  troubled  ;  the  arrow 
which  Earl  Sudley  had  shot  with  so  skilful  a  hand  had  hit. 
The  king,  ever  suspicious  and  distrustful,  felt  so  much  the  more 
disquieted  as  he  saw  that  the  greater  part  of  his  cavaliers  evi- 


HENKY  vm.  AND  nis  COURT.  49 

dently  reckoned  themselves  friends  of  Henry  Howard,  and 
that  the  number  of  Seymour's  adherents  was  but  trifling. 

"  These  Howards  are  dangerous,  and  I  will  watch  them 
carefully,"  said  the  king  to  himself;  and  for  the  first  time  his 
eye  rested  with  a  dark  and  hostile  look  on  Henry  Howard's 
noble  countenance. 

But  Thomas  Seymour,  who  wished  only  to  make  a  thrust 
at  his  old  enemy,  had  at  the  same  time  decided  the  fate  of 
poor  Anne  Askew.  It  was  now  almost  an  impossibility  to 
speak  in  her  behalf,  and  to  implore  pardon  for  her  was  to  be- 
come a  partaker  of  her  crime.  Thomas  Seymour  had  aban. 
doned  her,  because,  as  traitress  to  her  king,  she  had  rendered 
herself  unworthy  of  his  protection.  Who  now  would  be  so 
presumptuous  as  to  still  protect  the  traitress? 

Henry  Howard  did  it ;  he  reiterated  his  supplication  for 
Anne  Askew's  pardon.  But  the  king's  countenance  grew 
darker  and  darker,  and  the  courtiers  watched  with  dread  the 
coming  of  the  moment  when  his  wrath  would  dash  in  pieces 
the  poor  Earl  of  Surrey. 

In  the  row  of  ladies  also,  here  and  there,  a  pale  face  was 
visible,  and  many  a  beautiful  and  beaming  eye  was  dimmed 
with  tears  at  the  sight  of  this  gallant  and  handsome  cavalier  ? 
who  was  hazarding  even  his  life  for  a  woman. 

"  He  is  lost !  "  murmured  Lady  Jane  Douglas  ;  and,  com- 
pletely crushed  and  lifeless,  she  leaned  for  a  moment  against 
the  wall.  But  she  soon  recovered  herself,  and  her  eye  beamed 
with  bold  resolution.  "  I  will  try  and  save  him  !  "  she  said  to 
herself;  and,  with  firm  step,  she  advanced  from  the  ladies' 
ranks,  and  approached  the  king. 

A  murmur  of  applause  ran  through  the  company,  and  all 
faces  brightened  and  all  eyes  were  bent  approvingly  on  Lady 
Jane.  They  knew  that  she  was  the  queen's  friend,  and  an 
adherent  of  the  new  doctrine ;  it  was,  therefore,  very  marked 
and  significant  when  she  supported  the  Earl  of  Surrey  in  his 
magnanimous  effort. 

Lady  Jane  bowed  her  beautiful  and  haughty  head  before 
3 


50  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

the  king,  and  said,  in  her  clear,  silvery  voice :  "  Sire,  in  the 
name  of  all  the  women,  I  also  beseech  you  to  pardon  Anne 
Askew,  because  she  is  a  woman.  Lord  Surrey  has  done  so 
because  a  true  knight  can  never  be  i'alse  to  himself  and  his 
ever  high  and  sacred  obligation  :  to  be  the  protector  of  those 
who  are  helpless  and  in  peril  is  enough  for  him.  A  real  gen. 
tleman  asks  not  whether  a  woman  is.  worthy  of  his  protection  ; 
he  grants  it  to  her,  simply  because  she  is  a  woman,  and  needs 
his  help.  And  while  I,  therefore,  in  the  name  of  all  the  wo- 
men, thank  the  Earl  of  Surrey  for  the  assistance  that  he  has 
been  desirous  to  render  to  a  woman,  I  unite  my  prayer  with 
his,  because  it  shall  not  be  said  that  we  women  are  always 
cowardly  and  timid,  and  never  venture  to  hasten  to  the  help 
of  the  distressed.  I,  therefore,  ask  mercy,  sire,  mercy  for 
Anne  Askew  ! " 

"  And  I,"  said  the  queen,  as  she  again  approached  the 
king,  "  I  add  my  prayers  to  hers,  sire.  To-day  is  the  feast 
of  love,  my  festival,  sire  !  To-day,  then,  let  love  and  mercy 
prevail." 

She  looked  at  the  king  with  so  charming  a  smile,  her  eyes 
had  an  expression  so  radiant  and  happy,  that  the  king  could 
not  withstand  her. 

He  was,  therefore,  in  the  depths  of  his  heart,  ready  to  let  the 
royal  clemency  prevail  for  this  time  ;  but  he  wanted  a  pretext 
for  this,  some  way  of  bringing  it  about.  He  had  solemnly 
vowed  to  pardon  no  heretic,  and  he  might  not  break  his  word 
merely  because  the  queen  prayed  for  mercy. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  he,  after  a  pause,  "  I  will  comply  with 
your  request.  I  will  pardon  Anne  Askew,  provided  she  will 
retract,  and  solemnly  abjure  all  that  she  has  said.  Are  you 
satisfied  with  that,  Catharine  ?  " 

"  I  am  satisfied,"  said  she,  sadly. 

"  And  you,  Lady  Jane  Douglas,  and  Henry  Howard,  Earl 
of  Surrey?  " 

"  We  are  satisfied." 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  again  upon  Anne  Askew,  who, 


HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  51 

although  every  one  -was  occupied  by  her  concerns,  had  been 
entirely  overlooked  and  left  unnoticed. 

Nor  had  she  taken  any  more  notice  of  the  company  than 
they  of  her.  She  had  scarcely  observed  what  was  going  on 
about  her.  She  stood  leaning  against  the  open  door  leading  to 
the  balcony,  and  gazed  at  the  flaming  horizon.  Her  soul  was 
with  those  pious  martyrs,  for  whom  she  was  sending  up  her 
heart-felt  prayers  to  God,  and  whom  she,  in  her  feverish  exal- 
tation, envied  their  death  of  torture.  Entirely  borne  away 
from  the  present,  she  had  heard  neither  the  petitions  of  those 
who  protected  her,  nor  the  king's  reply. 

A  hand  laid  upon  her  shoulder  roused  her  from  her  reverie. 

It  was  Catharine,  the  young  queen,  who  stood  near  her. 

"  Aune  Askew,"  said  she,  in  a  hurried  whisper,  "  if  your 
life  is  dear  to  you,  comply  with  the  king's  demand." 

She  seized  the  young  girl's  hand,  and  led  her  to  the  king. 

"  Sire,"  said  she,  in  a  full  voice,  "  forgive  the  exalted  and 
impassioned  agony  of  a  poor  girl,  who  has  now,  for  the  first 
time,  been  witness  of  an  execution,  and  whose  mind  has  been 
so  much  impressed  by  it  that  she  is  scarcely  conscious  of  the 
mad  and  criminal  words  that  she  has  uttered  before  you ! 
Pardon  her,  then,  your  majesty,  for  she  is  prepared  cheerfully 
to  retract." 

A  cry  of  amazement  burst  from  Anne's  lips,  and  her  eyes 
flashed  with  anger,  as  she  dashed  the  queen's  hand  away  from 
||pr. 

"  I  retract !  "  exclaimed  she,  with  a  contemptuous  smile. 
"  Never,  my  lady,  never  1  No  !  as  sure  as  I  hope  for  God  to 
be  gracious  to  me  in  my  last  hour,  I  retract  not !  It  is  true, 
it  was  agony  and  horror  that  made  me  speak  ;  but  what  I  have 
spoken  is  yjet,  nevertheless,  the  truth.  Horror  caused  me  to 
,^-pcak,  and  forced  me  to  show  my  soul  undisguised.  No,  I  re- 
tract not  1  I  tell  you,  they  who  have  been  executed  over  yon- 
der are  holy  martyrs,  who  have  ascended  to  God,  there  to  enter 
an  accusation  against  their  royal  hangman.  Ay,  they  are 
holy,  for  eternal  truth  had  illumined  their  souls,  and  it  beamed 


52  HEJSTKY  vrrr.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

about  their  faces  bright  as  the  flames  of  the  fagots  into  which 
the  murderous  hand  of  an  unrighteous  judge  had  cast  them. 
Ah,  I  must  retract !  I,  forsooth,  am  to  do  as  did  Shaxton, 

the  miserable  and  unfaithful  servant  of  his  God,  -who,  from 

f  * 

fear  of  earthly  death,  denied  the  eternal  truth,  and  in  blasphem- 
ing pusillanimity  perjured  himself  concerning  the  holy  doctrine.* 
King  Henry,  I  say  unto  you,  beware  of  dissemblers  and  per- 
jurers ;  beware  of  your  own  haughty  and  arrogant  thoughts. 
The  blood  of  martyrs  cries  to  Heaven  against  you,  and  the 
time  will  come  when  God  will  be  as  merciless  to  you  as  you 
have  been  to  the  noblest  of  your  subjects  !  You  deliver  them 
over  to  the  murderous  flames,  because  they  will  not  believe 
what  the  priests  of  Baal  preach  ;  because  they  will  not  believe 
in  the  real  transubstantiation  of  the  cbalic© ;  because  they  de- 
ny that  the  natural  body  of  Christ  is,  after  the  sacrament,  con- 
tained in  the  sacrament,  no  matter  whether  the  priest  be  a 
good  or  a  bad  man.f  You  give  them  over  to  the  executioner, 
because  they  serve  the  truth,  and  are  faithful  followers  of  the 
Lord  their  God  ! " 

"And  you  share  the  views  of  these  people  whom  you  call 
martyrs  ?  "  asked  the  king,  as  Anne  Askew  now  paused  for  a 
moment  and  struggled  for  breath. 

4'  Yes,  I  share  them  ! " 

"  You  deny,  then,  the  truth  of  the  six  articles?" 

"  I  deny  them  !  " 

"  You  do  not  see  in  me  the  head  of  the  Church?"  „ 

"  God  only  is  Head  and  Lord  of  the  Church  ! " 

A  pause  followed — a  fearful,  awful  pause. 

Every  one  felt  that  for  this  poor  young  girl  there  was  no 
hope,  no  possible  escape ;  that  her  doom  was  irrevocably 
sealed. 

There  was  a  smile  on  the  king's  countenance. 

The  courtiers  knew  that  smile,  and  feared  it  yet  more  than 
the  king's  raging  wrath. 

When  the  king  thus  smiled,  he  had   taken  his   resolve. 

*  Burnet,  yol  i.,  page  841.  t  Ibid. 


HKNEY   Vm.    AND  HIS   COUET.  53 


Then  there  was  with  him  no  possible  vacillation  or  hesitation, 
but  the  sentence  of  death  was  resolved  on,  and  his  blood- 
thirsty soul  rejoiced  over  a  new  victim. 

"  My  Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester,"  said  the  king,  at  length, 
"  come  hither." 

Gardiner  drew  near  and  placed  himself  by  Anne  Askew, 
who  gazed  at  him  with  angry,  contemptuous  looks. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  law  I  command  you  to  arrest  this 
heretic,  and  hand  her  over  to  the  spiritual  court,"  continued 
the  king.  "  She  is  damried  and  lost.  She  shall  be  punished 
as  she  deserves  !  " 

Gardiner  laid  his  hand  on  Anne  Askew's  shoulder.  "  In 
the  name  of  the  law  of  God,  I  arrest  you  !  "  said  he,  solemnly. 

Not  a  word  more  was  spoken.  The  lord  chief  justice  had 
silently  followed  a  sign  from  Gardiner,  and  touching  Anne 
Askew  with  his  staff,  ordered  the  soldiers  to  conduct  her 
thence. 

With  a  smile,  Anne  Askew  offered  them  her  hand,  and, 
surrounded  by  the  soldiers  and  followed  by  the  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester and  the  lord  chief  justice,  walked  erect  and  proudly 
out  of  the  room. 

The  courtiers  had  divided  and  opened  a  passage  for  Anne 
and  her  attendants.  Now  their  ranks  closed  again,  as  the  sea 
closes  and  flows  calmly  on  when  it  has  just  received  a  corpse. 
To  them  all  Anne  Askew  was  already  a  corpse,  as  one 
buried.  The  waves  had  swept  over  her  and  all  was  again 
serene  and  bright. 

The  king  extended  his  hand  to  his  young  wife,  and,  bend- 
ing down,  whispered  in  her  ear  a  few  words,  which  nobody 
understood,  but  which  mado  the  young  queen  tremble  and 
liln.-li. 

The  king,  who  observed  this,  laughed  and  impressed  a  kiss 
on  her  forehead.  Then  he  turned  to  his  court  : 

"  Now,  good-night,  my  lords  and  gentlemen,"  said  he,  with 
a  gracious  inclination  of  the  head.  "  The  feast  is  at  an  end, 
and  we  need  rest." 


54:  HENRY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

"  Forget  not  the  Princess  Elizabeth,"  whispered  Arch- 
bishop Cranmer,  as  he  took  leave  of  Catharine,  and  pressed  to 
his  lips  her  proffered  hand. 

"  I  will  not  forget  her,"  murmured  Catharine,  and,  with 
throbbing  heart  and  trembling  with  inward  dread,  she  saw 
them  all  retire,  and  leave  her  alone  with  the  king. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE     INTERCESSION. 

"  AND  now,  Kate,"  said  the  king,  when  all  had  withdrawn, 
and  he  was  again  alone  with  her,  "now  let  us  forget  every, 
thing,  save  that  we  love  each  other." 

He  embraced  her  and  with  ardor  pressed  her  to  his  breast. 
Wearied  to  death,  she  bowed  her  head  on  his  shoulder  and 
lay  there  like  a  shattered  rose,  completely  broken,  completely 
passive. 

"You  give  me  no  kiss,  Kate?"  said  Henry,  with  a  smile. 
"  Are  you  then  yet  angry  with  me  that  I  did  not  comply  with 
your  first  request?  But  what  would  you  have  me  do,  child? 
How,  indeed,  shall  I  keep  the  crimson  of  my  royal  mantle  al- 
ways fresh  and  bright,  unless  I  continually  dye  it  anew  in  the 
blood  of  criminals?  Only  he  who  punishes  and  destroys  is 
truly  a  king,  and  trembling  mankind  will  acknowledge  him  as 
such.  The  tender-hearted  and  gracious  king  it  despises,  and 
his  pitiful  weakness  it  laughs  to  scorn.  Bah !  Humanity  is 
such  a  wretched,  miserable  thing,  that  it  only  respects  and  ac- 
knowledges him  who  makes  it  tremble.  And  people  are  such 
contemptible,  foolish  children,  that  they  have  respect  only  for 
him  who  makes  them  feel  the  lash  daily,  and  every  now  and 
then  whips  a  few  of  them  to  death.  Look  at  me,  Kate  :  where 
is  there  a  king  who  has  reigned  longer  and  more  happily  than 
I?  whom  the  people  love  more  and  obey  better  than  me? 
This  arises  from  the  fact,  that  I  have  already  signed  more 


HENEY   Vin.    AND    HIS   COUET.  55 

than  two  hundred  death-warrants,*  and  because  every  one*  be- 
lieves that,  if  he  does  not  obey  me,  I  will  without  delay  send 
his  head  after  the  others  ! " 

"  Oh,  you  say  you  love  me,"  murmured  Catharine,  "  and 
you  speak  only  of  blood  and  death  while  you  are  with,  me." 

The  king  laughed.  "  You  are  right,  Kate,"  said  he,  "  and 
yet,  believe  me,  there  are  other  thoughts  slumbering  in  the 
depths  of  my  heart,  and  could  you  look  down  into  it,  you  would 
not  accuse  me  of  coldness  and  unkindness.  I  love  yon  truly, 
my  dear,  virgin  bride,  and  to  prove  it,  you  shall  now  ask  a  fa- 
vor of  me.  Yes,  Kate,  make  me  a  request,  and  whatever  it 
may  be,  I  pledge  you  my  royal  word,  it  shall  be  granted  you. 
Now,  Kate,  think,  what  will  please  you?  Will  you  have  bril- 
liants, or  a  castle  by  the  sea,  or,  perhaps,  a  yacht  ?  Would 
you  like  fine  horses,  or  it  may  be  some  one  has  offended  you, 
and  you  would  like  his  head  ?  If  so,  tell  me,  Kate,  and  you  shall 
have  his  head  ;  a  wink  from  me,  and  it  drops  at  your  feet.  For 
I-  am  almighty  and  all-powerful,  and  no  one  is  so  innocent  and 
pure,  that  my  will  cannot  find  in  him  a  crime  which  will  cost 
him  his  life.  Speak,  then,  Kate  ;  what  would  you  have  ?  What 
will  gladden  your  heart  ?  " 

Catharine  smiled  in  spite  of  her  secret  fear  and  horror. 

"  Sire,"  said  she,  "  you  have  given  me  so  many  brilliants, 
that  I  can  shine  and  glitter  with  them,  as  night  does  with  her 
stars.  If  you  give  me  a  castle  by  the  sea,  that  is,  at  the  same 
time,  banishing  me  from  Whitehall  and  your  presence  ;  I  wish, 
therefore,  for  no  castle  of  my  own.  I  wish  only  to  dwell  with 
you  in  your  castles,  and  my  king's  abode  shall  be  my  only  res- 
idence." 

"  Beautifully  and  wisely  spoken,"  said  the  king ;  "  I  will 
remember  these  words  if  ever  your  enemies  endeavor  to  send  you 
to  a  dwelling  and  a  castle  other  than  that  which  your  king  oc- 
cupies. The  To\yer  is  also  a  castle,  Kate,  but  I  give  you  my 
royal  word  you  shall  never  occupy  that  castle.  You  want  no 
treasures  and  no  castles  ?  It  is,  then,  somebody's  head  that  you 
demand  of  me  ?  " 

•  Tytlcr,  page  423.    Lctl,  roL  I.,  page  187. 


56  HENEY  vni.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"'  Yes,  sire,  it  is  the  head  of  some  one  ! " 

"  Ah,  I  guessed  it,  then,"  said  the  king  with  a  laugh. 
"Now  speak,  my  little  bloodthirsty  queen,  whose  head  will 
you  have  ?  Who  shall  be  brought  to  the  block  ?  "' 

"  Sire,  it  is  true  I  ask  you  for  the  head  of  a  person,"  said 
Catharine,  in  a  tender,  earnest  tone,  "  but  I  wish  not  that  head 
to  fall,  but  to  be  lifted  up.  I  beg  you  for  a  human  life — not 
to  destroy  it,  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  adorn  it  with  happiness 
and  joy.  I  wish  to  drag  no  one  to  prison,  but  to  restore  to  one, 
dearly  beloved,  the  freedom,  happiness,  and  splendid  position 
which  belong  to  her.  Sire,  you  have  permitted  me  to  ask  a 
favor.  Now,  then,  I  beg  you  to  call  the  Princess  Elizabeth  to 
court.  Let  her  reside  with  us  at  Whitehall.  Allow  her  to  be 
ever  near  me,  and  share  my  happiness  and  glory.  Sire,  only 
yesterday  the  Princess  Elizabeth  was  far  above  me  in  rank  and 
position,  but  since  your  all-powerful  might  and  grace  have  to- 
day elevated  me  above  all  other  women,  I  may  now  love  the 
Princess  Elizabeth  as  my  sister  and  dearest  friend.  Grant  me 
this,  my  king  !  Let  Elizabeth  come  to  us  at  Whitehall,  and 
enjoy  at  our  court  the  honor  which  is  her  due."  * 

The  king  did  not  reply  immediately ;  but  in  his  quiet  and 
smiling  air  one  could  read  that  his  young  consort's  request 
had  not  angered  him.  Something  like  an  emotion  flitted 
across  his  face,  and  his  eyes  were  for  a  moment  dimmed  with 
tears. 

Perhaps  just  then  a  pale,  soul-harrowing  phantom  passed 
before  his  mind,  and  a  glance  at  the  past  showed  him  the  beau- 
tiful and  unfortunate  mother  f  of  Elizabeth,  whom  he  had  sen- 
tenced to  a  cruel  death  at  the  hands  of  the  public  executioner, 
and  whose  last  word  nevertheless  was  a  blessing  and  a  mes- 
sage of  love  for  him. 

He  passionately  seized  Catharine's  hand  and  pressed  it  to 
his  lips.  "  I  thank  you  !  You  are  unselfish  and  generous. 
That  is  a  very  rare  quality,  and  I  shall  always  highly  esteem 
you  for  it.  But  you  are  also  brave  and  courageous,  for  you  have 

*Leti,vol.  i.,  p.  147.    Tytler,  p.  410.  t  Anne  Boleyn. 


HENET   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  57 

dared  what  nobody  before  you  has  dared  ;  you  have  twice  on 
the  same  evening  interceded  for  one  condemned  and  one  fallen 
into  disgrace.  The  fortunate,  and  those  favored  by  me,  have 
always  had  many  friends,  but  I  have  never  yet  seen  that  the 
unfortunate  and  the  exiled  have  also  found  friends.  You  are 
different  from  these  miserable,  cringing  courtiers ;  different 
from  this  deceitful  and  trembling  crowd,  that  with  chattering 
teeth  fall  down  and  worship  me  as  their  god  and  lord ;  differ- 
ent from  these  pitiful,  good-for-nothing  mortals,  who  call  them- 
selves my  people,  and  who  allow  me  to  yoke  them  up,  because 
they  are  like  the,  ox,  which  is  obedient  and  serviceable,  only 
because  he  is  so  stupid  as  not  to  know  his  own  might  and 
strength.  Ah,  believe  me,  Kate,  I  would  be  a  milder  and 
more  merciful  king,  if  the  people  were  not  such  an  utterly 
stupid  and  contemptible  thing ;  a  dog,  which  is  so  much  the 
more  submissive  and  gentle  the  more  you  maltreat  him.  You, 
Kate,  you  are  different,  and  I  am  glad  of  it.  You  know,  I 
have  forever  banished  Elizabeth  from  my  court  and  from  my 
heart,  and  still  you  intercede  for  her.  That  is  noble  of  you, 
aud  I  love  you  for  it,  and  grant  you  your  request.  And  that 
you  may  see  how  I  love  and  trust  you,  I  will  now  reveal  to 
you  a  secret :  I  have  long  since  wished  to  have  Elizabeth  with 
me,  but  I  was  ashamed,  even  to  myself,  of  this  weakness.  I 
have  long  yearned  once  again  to  look  into  my  daughter's  large 
deep  eyes,  to  be  a  kind  and  tender  father  to  her,  and  -make 
some  amends  to  her  for  the  wrong  I  perhaps  may  have  done 
to  her  mother.  For  sometimes,  in  sleepless  nights,  Anne's 
beautiful  face  comes  up  before  me  and  gazes  at  me  with  mourn- 
ful, mild  look,  and  my  whole  heart  shudders  before  it.  But  I 
could  not  confess  this  to  anybody,  for  then  they  might  gay 
that  I  repented  what  I  had  done.  A  king  must  be  infallible, 
like  God  himself,  and  never,  through  regret  or  desire  to  com- 
pensate, confess  that  he  is  a  weak,  erring  mortal,  like  others. 
You  see  why  I  repressed  my  longing  and  parental  tenderness, 
•which  was  suspected  by  no  one,  aud  appeared  to  be  a  heartless 
father,  because  nobody  would  help  me  and  make  it  easy  for 
3* 


58  HENBY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

rne  to  be  a  tender  father.  Ah,  these  courtiers  !  They  are  so 
stupid,  that  they  can  understand  only  just  what  is  echoed  in 
our  words ;  but  what  our  heart  says,  and  longs  for,  of  that 
they  know  nothing.  But  you  know,  Kate  ;  you  are  an  acute 
woman,  and  a  high-minded  one  besides.  Come,  Kate,  a 
thankful  father  gives  you  this  kiss,  and  this,  ay,  this,  your 
husband  gives  you,  my  beautiful,  charming  queen." 


CHAPTER  VIL 

• 

HENRT  THE   EIGHTH   AND   HIS   WIVES. 

t 

THE  calm  of  night  had  now  succeeded  to  the  tempest  of 
the  day,  and  after  so  much  bustle,  festivity,  and  rejoicing,  deep 
quiet  now  reigned  in  the  palace  of  Whitehall,  and  throughout 
London.  The  happy  subjects  of  King  Henry  might,  without 
danger,  remain  for  a  few  hours  at  least  in  their  houses,  and 
behind  closed  shutters  and  bolted  doors,  either  slumber  and 
dream,  or  give  themselves  to  their  devotional  exercises,  on 
account  of  which  they  had  that  day,  perhaps,  been  denounced 
as  malefactors.  They  might,  for  a  few  hours,  resign  them- 
selves to  the  sweet,  blissful  dream  of  being  freemen  untram- 
melled in  belief  and  thought.  For  King  Henry  slept,  and  like- 
wise Gardiner  and  the  lord  chancellor  had  closed  their  watch- 
ful, prying,  devout,  murderous  eyes,  and  reposed  awhile  from 
the  Christian  employment  of  ferreting  out  heretics. 

And  like  the  king,  the  entire  households  of  both  their 
majesties  Avere  also  asleep  and  resting  from  the  festivities  of 
the  royal  wedding-day,  which,  in  pomp  and  splendor,  by  far 
surpassed  the  five  preceding  marriages. 

It  appeared,  however,  as  though  not  all  the  court  officials 
were  taking  rest,  and  following  the  example  of  the  king.  For 
in  a  chamber,  not  far  from  that  of  the  royal  pair,  one  could 
perceive,  from  the  bright  beams  streaming  from  the  windows, 
in  spite  of  the  heavy  damask  curtains  which  veiled  them,  that 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS    CODKT.  59 

the  lights  were  not  yet  extinguished ;  and  he  who  looked  more 
closely,  would  have  observed  that  now  and  then  a  human 
shadow  was  portrayed  upon  the  curtain. 

So  the  occupant  of  this  chamber  had  not  yet  gone  to  rest, 
and  harassing  must  have  been  the  thoughts  which  caused  him 
to  move  so  restlessly  to  and  fro. 

This  chamber  was  occupied  by  Lady  Jane  Douglas,  first 
maid  of  honor  to  the  queen.  The  powerful  influence  of  Gar- 
diner, Bishop  of  "Winchester,  had  seconded  Catharine's  wish 
to  have  near  her  the  dear  friend  of  her  youth,  and,  without 
suspecting  it,  the  queen  had  given  a  helping  hand  to  bring 
nearer  to  their  accomplishment  the  schemes  which  the  hypo- 
critical Gardiner  was  directing  against  her. 

For  Catharine  knew  not  what  changes  had  taken  place  in 
the  character  of  her  friend  in  the  four  years  in  which  she  had 
not  seen  her.  She  did  not  suspect  how  fatal  her  sojourn  in 
the  strongly  Romish  city  of  Dublin  had  been  to  the  easily  im- 
pressible mind  of  her  early  playmate,  and  IIOAV  much  it  had 
transformed  her  whole  being. 

Lady  Jane,  once  so  sprightly  and  gay,  had  becoine  a 
bigoted  Romanist,  who,  with  fanatical  zeal,  believed  that  she 
was  serving  God  when  she  served  the  Church,  and  paid  unre- 
served obedience  to  her  priests. 

Lady  Jane  Douglas  had  therefore — thanks  to  her  fanaticism 
and  the  teachings  of  the  priests — become  a  complete  dissembler. 
She  could  smile,  while  in  her  heart  she  secretly  brooded  over 
hatred  and  revenge.  She  could  kiss  the  lips  of  those  whose 
destruction  she  had  perhaps  just  sworn.  She  could  preserve 
a  harmless,  innocent  air,  while  she  observed  every  thing,  and 
took  notice  of  every  breath,  every  smile,  every  movement  of 
the  eyelashes. 

Hence  it  was  very  important  for  Gardiner,  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester, to  bring  this  "  friend"  of  the  queen  to  court,  and  mako 
of  this  disciple  of  Loyola  an  ally  and  friend. 

Lady  Jane  Douglas  was  alone  ;  and,  pacing  up  and  down 
her  room,  she  thought  over  the  events  of  the  day. 


60  HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

Now,  that  no  one  was  observing  her,  she  had  laid  aside 
that  gentle,  serious  mien,  which  one  was  wont  to  see  about 
her  at  other  times  ;  her  countenance  betrayed  in  rapid  changes 
all  the  various  sad  and  cheerful,  tempestuous  and  tender 
feelings  which  agitated  her. 

She  who  had  hitherto  had  only  one  aim  before  her  eyes,  to 
serve  the  Church,  and  to  consecrate  her  whole  life  to  this  ser- 
vice ;  she  whose  heart  had  been  hitherto  open  only  to  ambition 
and  devotion,  she  felt  to-day  wholly  new  and  never-suspected 
feelings  springing  up  within  her.  A  new  thought  had  entered 
into  her  life,  the  woman  was  awakened  in  her,  and  beat  vio- 
lently at  that  heart  which  devotion  had  overlaid  with  a  hard 
coating. 

She  had  tried  to  collect  herself  in  prayer,  and  to  fill  her 
soul  so  entirely  with  the  idea  of  God  and  her  Church,  that  no 
earthly  thought  or  desire  could  find  place  therein.  But  ever 
and  again  arose  before  her  mind's  eye  the  noble  countenance 
of  Henry  Howard,  ever  and  again  she  fancied  that  she  heard 
Lis  earnest,  melodious  voice,  which  made  her  heart  shake  and 
tremble  like  a  magical  incantation. 

She  had  at  first  struggled  againt  these  sweet  fancies,  which 
forced  upon  her  such  strange  and  undreamed-of  thoughts  ;  but 
at  length  the  woman  in  her  got  the  better  of  the  fanatical  Ro- 
manist, and,  dropping  into  a  seat,  she  surrendered  herself  to 
her  dreams  and  fancies. 

u  Has  he  recognized  me  ?  "  asked  she  of  herself  ."  Does  he 
still  remember  that  a  year  ago  we  saw  each  other  daily  at  the 
king's  court  in  Dublin  ?  " 

"  But  no,"  added  she  mournfully,  "  he  knows  nothing  of 
it.  He  had  then  eyes  and  sense  only  for  his  young  wife.  Ah, 
and  she  was  beautiful  and  lovely  as  one  of  the  Graces.  But  I, 
am  not  I  also  beautiful  ?  and  have  not  the  noblest  cavaliers 
paid  me  homage,  and  sighed  for  me  in  unavailing  love  ?  How 
comes  it,  then,  that  where  I  would  please,  there  I  am  always 
overlooked?  How  comes  it,  that  the  only  two  men,  for  whose 
notice  I  ever  cared,  have  never  shown  any  preference  for  me  ? 


HENKY   VLB.    AND   HIS   COUBT.  61 

I  felt  that  I  loved  Henry  Howard,  but  this  love  was  a  sin, 
for  the  Earl  of  Surrey  was  married.  I  therefore  tore  my 
heart  from  him  by  violence,  and  gave  it  to  God,  because  the 
only  man  whom  I  could  love  did  not  return  my  affection. 
But  even  God  and  devotion  are  not  able  to  entirely  fill  a  wo- 
man's heart.  In  my^breast  there  was  still  room  for  ambition  ; 
and  since  I  could  not  be  a  happy  wife,  I  would  at  least  be  a 
powerful  queen.  Oh,  every  thing  was  so  well  devised,  so 
nicely  arranged  !  Gardiner  had  already  spoken  of  me  to  the 
king,  and  inclined  him  to  his  plan  ;  and  while  I  \vas  hastening 
at  his  call  from  Dublin  hither,  this  little  Catharine  Parr  comes 
between  and  snatches  him  from  me,  and  overturns  all  our 
schemes.  I  will  never  forgive  her.  I  will  find  a  way  to 
avenge  myself.  I  will  force  her  to  leave  this  place,  which 
belongs  to  me,  and  if  there  is  no  other  way  for  it,  she  must 
go  the  way  of  the  scaffold,  as  did  Catharine  Howard.  I  will 
be  Queen  of  England,  I  will — " 

She  suddenly  interrupted  her  soliloquy,  and  listened.  She 
thought  she  heard  a  slight  knock  at  the  door. 

She  was  not  mistaken  ;  this  knock  was  now  repeated,  #nd 
indeed  with  a  peculiar,  significant  stroke. 

"  It  is  my  father !  "  said  Lady  Jane,  and,  as  she  resumed 
again  her  grave  and  quiet  air,  she  proceeded  to  open  the  door. 

"Ah,  you  expected  me,  then?"  said  Lord  Archibald 
Douglas,  kissing  his  daughter's  forehead. 

"  Yes,  I  expected  you,  my  father,"  replied  Lady  Jane  with 
a  smile.  "  I  knew  that  you  would  come  to  communicate  to 
me  your  experiences  and.  observations  during  the  day,  and  to 
give  me  directions  for  the  future." 

The  carl  seated  himself  on  the  ottoman,  and  drew  his 
daughter  down  by  him. 

"  No  one  can  overhear  us,  can  they  ?  " 

*'  Nobody,  my  father !  My  women  are  sleeping  in  the 
fourth  chamber  from  here,  and  I  huve  myself  fastened  tho  in- 
tervening doors.  The  anteroom  through  which  you  came  is, 
as  you  know,  entirely  empty,  and  nobody  can  conceal  himself 


62  HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

there.     It  remains,  then,  only  to  fasten  the  door  leading  thence 
into  the  corridor,  in  order  to  be  secure  from  interruption." 

She  hastened  into  the  anteroom  to  fasten  the  door. 

"  Now,  my  father,  we  are  secure  from  listeners,"  said  she, 
as  she  returned  and  resumed  her  place  on  the  ottoman. 

"  And  the  walls,  my  child?  know  you  whether  or  no  the 
walls  are  safe  ?  You  look  at  me  with  an  expression  of  doubt 
and  surprise  !  My  God,  what  a  harmless  and  innocent  little 
maiden  you  still  are !  Have  I  not  constantly  reiterated  th 
great  and  wise  lesson,  *  Doubt  every  thing  and  mistrust  every 
thing,  even  what  you  see.'  He  who  will  make  his  fortune  at 
court,  must  first  of  all  mistrust  everybody,  and  consider  every- 
body his  enemy,  whom  he  is  to  flatter,  because  he  can  do  him 
harm,  and  whom  he  is  to  hug  and  kiss,  until  in  some  happy 
embrace  he  can  either  plunge  a  dagger  into  his  breast  wholly 
unobserved,  or  pour  poison  into  his  mouth.  Trust  neither 
men  nor  walls,  Jane,  for  I  tell  you,  however  smooth  and  inno- 
cent both  may  appear,  still  there  may  be  found  an  ambuscade 
behind  the  smooth  exterior.  But  I  will  for  the  present  believe 
that  these  walls  are  innocent,  and  conceal  no  listeners.  I  will 
believe  it,  because  I  know  this  room.  Those  were  fine  and 
charming  days  in  which  I  became  acquainted  with  it.  Then 
I  was  yet  young  and  handsome,  and  King  Henry's  sister  was 
not  yet  married  to  the  King  of  Scotland,  and  we  loved  each 
other  so  dearly.  Ah,  I  could  relate  to  you  wonderful  stories 
of  those  happy  days.  I  could — " 

"  But,  my  dear  father,"  interrupted  Lady  Jane,  secretly 
trembling  at  the  terrible  prospect  of  being  forced  to  listen  yet 
again  to  the  story  of  his  youthful  love,  which  she  had  already 
heard  times  without  number,  "  but,  my  dear  father,  doubtless 
you  have  not  come  hither  so  late  at  night  in  order  to  relate 
to  me  what  I — forgive  me,  my  lord — whatl  long  since  knew. 
You  will  rather  communicate  to  me  what  your  keen  and  un- 
erring glance  has  discovered  here." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Lord  Douglas,  sadly.  "  I  now  some- 
times become  loquacious — a  sure  sign  that  I  am  growing  old. 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET.  .         63 

I  have,  by  no  means,  come  here  to  speak  of  the  past,  but  of  the 
present.  Let  us,  then,  speak  of  it.  Ah,  I  have  to-day  per- 
ceived much,  seen  much,  observed  much,  and  the  result  of  my 
observations  is,  you  will  be  King  Henry's  seventh  wife." 

"  Impossible,  my  lord ! "  exclaimed  Laxly  Jane,  whose 
countenance,  in  spite  of  her  will,  assumed  an  expression  of 
delight. 

Her  father  remarked  it.  "  My  child,"  said  he,  "  I  observe 
that  you  have  not  yet  your  features  entirely  under  your  con- 
trol. You  aimed  just  now,  for  example,  to  play  the  coy  and 
humble,  and  yet  your  face  had  the  expression  of  proud  satis- 
faction. But  this  by  the  way  !  The  principal  thing  is,  you 
will  be  King  Henry's  seventh  wife  !  But  in  order  to  become 
so,  there  is  need  of  great  heedfulness,  a  complete  knowledge 
of  present  relations,  constant  observation  of  all  persons,  im- 
penetrable dissimulation,  and  lastly,  above  all  things,  a  very 
intimate  and  profound  knowledge  of  the  king,  of  the  history 
of  his  reign,  and  of  his  character.  Do  you  possess  this  knowl- 
edge ?  Know  you  what  it  is  to  wish  to  become  King  Henry's 
seventh  wife,  and  how  you  must  begin  in  order  to  attain  this? 
Have  you  studied  Henry's  character?" 

"  A  little,  perhaps,  bat  certainly  not  sufficiently.  For,  as 
you  know,  my  lord,  worldly 'matters  have  lain  upon  my  heart 
less  than  the  holy  Church,  to  whose  service  I  have  consecrated 
myself,  and  to  which  I  would  have  presented  my  whole  being, 
my  whole  soul,  my  whole  heart,  as  a  sacrifice,  had  not  you 
yourself  determined  otherwise  concerning  me.  Ah,  my  father, 
had  I  been  allowed  to  follow  my  inclination,  I  would  have  re- 
tired into  a  convent  in  Scotland  in  order  to  spend  my  life  in 
quiet  contemplation  and  pious  penances,  and  close  my  soul 
and  ear  to  every  profane  sound.  But  my  wishes  have  not 
been  regarded ;  and,  by  the  mouth  of  His  venerable  and  holy 
priests,  God  has  commanded  me  to  remain  in  the  world,  and 
take  upon  myself  the  yoke  of  greatness  and  regal  splendor. 
If  I  then  struggle  and  strive  to  become  queen,  this  is  done,  not 
because  the  vain  pomp  and  glory  alluro  me,  but  solely  because 


64:  HENKY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

through  me  the  Church,  out  of  which  is  no  salvation,  may 
find  a  fulcrum  to  operate  on  this  weak  and  fickle  king,  and  be- 
cause I  am  to  bring  him  back  again  to  the  only  true  faith." 

"  Very  well  played ! "  cried  her  father,  who  had  stared  her 
steadily  in  the  face  while  she  was  speaking.  "  On  my  word, 
very  well  played.  Every  thing  was  in  perfect  harmony,  the 
gesticulation,  the  play  of  the  eyes,  and  the  voice.  My  daugh- 
ter, I  withdraw  my  censure.  You  have  perfect  control  .over 
yourself.  But  let  us  speak  of  King  Henry.  "We  will  now 
subject  him  to  a  thorough  analysis,  and  no  fibre  of  his  heart, 
no  atom  of  his  brain  shall  remain  unnoticed  by  us.  We  will 
observe  him  in  his  domestic,  his  political,  and  his  religious  life, 
and  get  a  pel  fectly  clear  view  of  every  peculiarity  of  his  char- 
acter, in  order  that  we  may  deal  with  him  accordingly.  Let 
us,  then,  spr.ak  first  of  his  wives.  Their  lives  and  deaths  af- 
ford you  ex  'client  finger-posts  ;  for  I  do  not  deny  that  it  is  an 
extremely  difficult  and  dangerous  undertaking  to  be  Henry's 
consort.  There  is  needed  for  it  much  personal  courage  and 
very  greaA  self  control.  Know  you  which,  of  all  his  wives, 
possessed  these  in  the  highest  degree  ?  It  was  his  first  con 
sort,  Catharine  of  Arragon  I  By  Heaven,  she  was  a  sensible 
woman,  and  born  a  queen !  Henry,  avaricious  as  he  was, 
would  have  gladly  given  the  best  jewel  in  his  crown,  if  he 
could  have  detected  but  a  shadow,  the  slightest  trace  of-  un- 
faithfulness in  her.  But  there  was  absolutely  no  means  of 
sending  this  woman  to  the  scaffold,  and  at  that  time  he  was  as 
yet  too  cowardly  and  too  virtuous  to  put  her  out  of  the  Avay  by 
]  oison.  He,  therefore,  endured  her  long,  until  she  was  an 
old  woman  with  gray  hairs,  and  disagreeable  for  his  eyes  to 
lopk  upon.  So  after  he  had  been  married  to  her  seventeen 
years,  the  good,  pious  king  was  all  at  once  seized  with  a  con- 
scientious scruple,  and  because  he  had  read  in  the  Bible,  '  Thou 
shalt  not  marry  thy  sister,'  dreadful  pangs  of  conscience  came 
uj  on  the  noble  and  crafty  monarch.  He  fell  on  his  knees  and 
beat  his  breast,  and  cried :  '  I  have  committed  a  great  sin ; 
for  I  have  married  my  brother's  wife,  and  consequently  my 


HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS    COURT.  65 

sister.  But  I  will  make  amends  for  it.  I  will  dissolve  this 
adulterous  marriage  ! ' — Do  you  know,  child,  why  he  would 
dissolve  it  ?  " 

"  Because  he  loved  Lady  Anne  Boleyn  !  "  said  Jane,  witli  a 
smile. 

"  Perfectly  correct !  Catharine  had  grown  old,  and  Henry 
was  still  a  young  man,  and  his  blood  shot  through  his  veins 
like  streams  of  fire.  But  he  was  yet  somewhat  virtuous  and 
timid,  and  the  main  peculiarity  of  his  character  was  as  yet 
undeveloped.  He  was  not  yet  bloodthirsty,  that  is  to  say,  he 
had  not  yet  licked  blood.  But  you  will  see  how  with  each 
new  queen  his  desire  for  blood  increased,  till  at  length  it  has 
now  become  a  wasting  disease.  Had  he  then  had  the  system 
of  lies  that  he  now  has,  he  would  somehow  have  bribed  a 
slanderer,  who  would  have  declared  that  he  was  Catharine's 
lover.  But  he  was  yet  so  innocent ;  *he  wanted  yet  to  gratify 
his  darling  lusts  in  a  perfectly  legal  way.  So  Anne  Boleyn 
must  become  his  queen,  that  he  might  love  her.  And  in  order 
to  attain  this,  he  threw  down  the  glove  to  the  whole  world, 
became  an  enemy  to  the  pope,  and  set  himself  in  open  opposi- 
tion to  the  holy  head  of  the  Church.  Because  the  Holy  Father 
would  not  dissolve  his  marriage,  King  Henry  became  an  apos- 
tate and  atheist.  He  constituted  himself  head  of  his  Church, 
and,  by  virtue  of  his  authority  as  such,  he  declared  his  mar- 
riage with  Catharine  of  Arragon  null  and  void.  Pie  said  that  he 
had  not  in  his  heart  given  his  consent  to  this  marriage,  and 
that  it  had  not  consequently  been  properly  consummated.*  It 
is  true,  Catharine  had  in  the  Princess  Mary  a  living  witness 
of  the  consummation  of  her  marriage,  but  what  did  the  enam- 
mored  and  selfish  king  care  about  that?  Princess  Mary  was 
declared  a  bastard,  and  the  queen  was  now  to  be  nothing 
more  than  the  widow  of  the  Prince  of  Wales.  It  was  strictly 
forbidden  to  longer  give  the  titlo  and  to  show  the  honor  due  to  a 
queen,  to  the  woman  who  for  seventeen  years  had  been  Queen 
of  England,  and  had  been  treated  and  honored  as  such.  No 

*  Bui-net,  vol.  I.,  page  87. 


66  HENET   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET 


one  was  permitted  to  call  her  any  thing  but  the  Princess  of 
Wales  ;  and  that  nothing  might  disturb  the  good  people  or  the 
noble  queen  herself  in  this  illusion,  Catharine  was  banished 
from  the  court  and  exiled  to  a  castle,  which  she  had  once  oc- 
cupied as  consort  of  Arthur,  Prince  of  "Wales.  And  Henry 
likewise  allowed  her  only  the  attendance  and  pension  which 
the  law  appoints  to  the  widow  of  the  Prince  «f  Wales.* 

"  I  have  ever  held  this  to  be  one  of  the  most  prudent  and 
subtle  acts  of  our  exalted  king,  and  in  the  whole  history  of 
this  divorce  the  king  conducted  himself  with  admirable  con- 
sistency and  resolution.  But  this  is  to  say,  he  was  excited 
by  opposition.  Mark  this,  then,  my  child,  for  this  is  the  rea- 
son why  I  have  spoken  to  you  of  these  things  so  much  at  length. 
Mark  this,  then  :  King  Henry  is  every  way  entirely  unable  to 
bear  contradiction,  or  to  be  subjected  to  restraint.  If  you 
wish  to  win  him  to  any  purpose,  you  must  try  to  draw  him 
from  it  ;  you  must  surround  it  with  difficulties  and  hinderances. 
Therefore  show  yourself  coy  and  indifferent  ;  that  will  excite 
him.  Do  not  court  his  looks  ;  then  will  he  seek  to  encounter 
yours.  And  when  finally  he  loves  you,  dwell  so  long  on  your 
virtue  and  your  conscience,  that  at  length  Henry,  in  order  to 
quiet  your  conscience,  will  send  this  troublesome  Catharine 
Parr  to  the  block,  or  do  as  he  did  with  Catharine  of  Arragon, 
and  declare  that  he  did  not  mentally  give  his  consent  to  this 
marriage,  and  therefore  Catharine  is  no  queen,  but  only  Lord 
Neville's  widow.  Ah,  since  he  made  himself  high-priest  of 
his  Church,  there  is  no  impediment  for  him  in  matters  of  this 
kind,  for  only  God  is  mightier  than  he. 

"•  The  beautiful  Anne  Boleyn,  Henry's  second  wife,  proved 
this.  I  have  seen  her  often,  and  I  tell  you,  Jane,  she  was  of 
wondrous  beauty.  Whoever  looked  upon  her,  could  not  but 
love  her,  and  he  whom  she  smiled  upon  felt  himself  fascina- 
ted and  glorified.  When  she  had  borne  to  the  king  the  Prin- 
cess Elizabeth,  I  heard  him  say,  that  he  had  attained  the 
summit  of  his  happiness,  the  goal  of  his  wishes,  for  the  queen 

*  Burnet,  voL  L,  page  120. 


HENET   Vm.    AND   HIS   OOTJET.  67 

had  borne  him  a  daughter,  and  so  there  was  a  regular  and 
legitimate  successor  to  his  throne.  But  this  happiness  lasted 
only  a  brief  time. 

"  The  king  conceived  one  day  that  Anne  Boleyn  was  not, 
as  he  had  hitherto  believed,  the  most  beaxitiful  woman  in  the 
world  ;  but  that  there  were  women  still  more  beautiful  at  his 
court,  who  therefore  had  a  stronger  vocation  to  beco  me  Queen 
of  England.  He  had  seen  Jane  Seymour,  and  she  without 
doubt  was  handsomer  than  Anne  Boleyn,  for  she  was  not  as 
yet  the  king's  consort,  and  there  was  an  obstacle  to  his  pos- 
session of  her — the  Queen  Anne  Boleyn.  This  obstacle  must 
be  got  out  of  the  way. 

'•  Henry,  by  virtue  of  his  plenitude  of  power,  might  again 
have  been  divorced  from  his  wife,  but  he  did  not  like  to  repeat 
himself,  he  wished  to  be  always  original ;  and  no  one  was  to  be 
allowed  to  say  that  his  divorces  were  only  the  cloak  of  his 
capricious  lewdness. 

"  He  had  divorced  Catharine  of  Arragon  an  account  of  con- 
scientious scruples ;  therefore,  some  other  means  must  be  de- 
vised for  Anne  Boleyn. 

"  The  shortest  way  to  be  rid  of  her  was  the  scaffold.  Why 
should  not  Anne  travel  that  road,  since  so  many  had  gone  it 
before  her?  for  a  new  force  had  entered  into  the  king's 
life :  the  tiger  had  licked  blood  I  His  instinct  was  aroused, 
and  he  recoiled  no  more  from  those  crimson  rills  which  flowed 
in  the  veins  of  his  subjects. 

"  He  had  given  Lady  Anne  Boleyn  the  crimson  mantle  of 
royalty,  why  then  should  she  not  give  him  her  crimson  blood  ? 
For  this  there  was  wanted  only  a  pretext,  and  this  was  soon 
found.  Lady  Rochfort  was  Jane  Seymour's  aunt,  and  she 
found  some  men,  of  whom  she  asserted  that  they  had  been 
lovers  of  the  fair  Anne  Boleyn.  She,  as  the  queen's  first 
lady  of  the  bed  chamber,  could  of  course  give  the  most 
minute  particulars  concerning  the  matter,  and  the  king 
believed  her.  He  believed  her,  though  these  four  pretended 
lovers  of  the  queen,  who  were  executed  for  their  crime,  all, 


68  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS    COURT. 

with  the  exception  of  a  single  one,  asseverated  that  Anne 
Boleyn  was  innocent,  and  that  they  had  never  been  in  her  pres 
ence.  The  only  one  who  accused  the  queen  of  illicit  inter 
course  with  him  was  James  Smeaton,  a  musician.*  But  he 
had  been  promised  his  life  for  this  confession.  However,  it 
was  not  thought  advisable  to  keep  this  promise,  for  fear  that, 
when  confronted  with  the  queen,  he  might  not  have  the 
strength  to  sustain  his  assertion.  But  not  to  be  altogether  un- 
thankful to  him  for  so  useful  a  confession,  they  showed  him 
the  favor  of  not  executing  him  with  the  axe,  but  the  more 
agreeable  and  easier  dealh  of  hanging  was  vouchsafed  to  him.f 

"  So  the  fair  and  lovely  Anne  Boleyn  must  lay  her  head  up- 
on the  block.  The  day  on  which  this  took  place,  the  king  had 
ordered  a  great  hunt,  and  early  that  morning  we  rode  out  to 
Epping  Forest.  The  king  was  at  first  unusually  cheerful  and 
humorous,  and  he  commanded  me  to  ride  near  him,  and  tell 
him  something  from  the  chronique  scandaleuse  of  our  court. 
He  laughed  at  my  spiteful  remarks,  and  the  worse  I  calumnia- 
ted, the  merrier  was  the  king.  Finally,  we  halted  ;  the  king 
had  talked  and  laughed  so  much  that  he  had  at  last  become 
hungry.  So  he  encamped  under  an  oak,  and,  in  the  midst  of 
his  suite  and  his  dogs,  he  took  a  breakfast,  which  pleased  him 
very  much,  although  he  had  now  become  a  little  quieter  and  more 
silent,  and  sometimes  turned  his  face  toward  the  direction  of 
London  with  visible  restlessness  and  anxiety.  But  suddenly 
was  heard  from  that  direction  the  dull  sound  of  a  cannon.  Wo 
all  knew  that  this  was  the  signal  which  was  to  make  known 
to  the  king  that  Anne  Boleyn's  head  had  fallen.  We  knew 
it,  and  a  shudder  ran  through  our  whole  frames.  The  king 
alone  smiled,  and  as  he  arose  and  took  his  weapon  from  my 
hand,  he  said,  with  cheerful  face,  '  It  is  done,  the  business  is 
finished.  Unleash  the  dogs,  and  let  us  follow  the  boar.' j 

"  That,"  said    Lord    Douglas,    sadly,  "  that    was    King 

*  Tytler.  t  Burnet,  vol.  i,  page  205. 

$  The  king's  very  words.  Tytler,  page  383.  The  oak  under  which  this  took  place  is 
still  pointed  out  in  Epping  Forest,  and  in  fact  is  not  less  remarkable  as  the  oak  of 
Charles  IL 


HENET   VIH.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  69 

Henry's  funeral  discourse  over  his  charming  and  innocent 
wife." 

"Do  you  regret  her,  my  father  ?"  asked  lady  Jane,  with 
surprise.  "  But  Anne  Boleyn  was,  it  seems  to  me,  an  enemy  of 
our  Church,  and  an  adherent  of  the  accursed  new  doctrine." 

Her  father  shrugged  his  shoulders  almost  contemptuously. 
"  That  did  not  prevent  Lady  Anne  from  heing  one  of  the  fairest 
and  loveliest  women  of  Old  England.  And,  besides,  much  as 
she  inclined  to  the  new  doctrine,  she  did  us  essential  good  ser- 
vice, for  she  it  was  who  bore  the  blame  of  Thomas  More's 
death.  Since  he  had  not  approved  her  marriage  with  the 
king,  she  hated  him,  as  the  king  hated  him  because  he  would 
not  take  the  oath  of  supremacy.  Henry,  however,  would 
have  spared  him,  for,  at  that  time,  he  still  possessed  some 
respect  for  learning  and  virtue,  and  Thomas  More  was  so  re- 
nowned a  scholar  that  the  King  held  him  in  reverence.  But 
Anne  Boleyn  demanded  his  death,  and  so  Thomas  More  must 
be  executed.  Oh,  believe  me,  Jane,  that  was  an  important  and 
sad  hour  for  all  England^  the  hour  when  Thomas  More  laid 
his  head  upon  the  block.  We  only,  we  gay  people  in  the  pal- 
ace of  Whitehall,  we  were  cheerful  and  merry.  We  were 
dancing  a  new  kind  of  dance,  the  music  of  which  was  written 
by  the  king  himself,  for  you  know  the  king  is  not  merely  an 
author,  but  also  a  composer,  and  as  he  now  writes  pious  books, 
so  he  then  composed  dances.*  That  evening,  after  we  had 
danced  till  we  were  tired,  we  played  cards.  Just  as  I  had 
won  a  few  guineas  from  the  king,  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower 
came  with  the  tidings  that  the  execution  was  over,  and  gave 
us  a  description  of  the  last  moments  of  the  great  scholar. 
The  king  threw  down  his  cards,  and,  turning  an  angry  look  on 
Anue  Boleyn,  said,  in  an  agitated  voice,  '  You  are  to  blame 
for  the  death  of  this  man  ! '  Then  he  arose  and  withdrew  to 
his  apartments,  whither  no  one  was  permitted  to  follow  him, 
not  even  the  queen.f  You  see,  then,  that  Anne  Boloyn  had  a 

*  Granger's  "  Biographical  History  of  England.11  Vol.  L,  page  187. 
t  Tytler,'  page  861. 


70  ,      HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

claim  on  our  gratitude,  for  the  death  of  Thomas  More  deliv- 
ered Old  England  from  another  great  peril.  Melancthon  and 
Bucer,  and  with  them  several  of  the  greatest  pulpit  orators  of 
Germany,  had  set  out  to  come  to  London,  and,  as  delegates  of 
the  Germanic  Protestant  princes,  to  nominate  the  king  as 
head  of  their  alliance.  But  the  terrible  news  of  the  execution 
of  their  friend  frightened  them  back,  and  caused  them  to  re- 
turn when  half-way  here.* 

"  Peace,  then,  to  the  ashes  of  unhappy  Anne  Boleyn !  How- 
ever, she  was  avenged  too,  avenged  on  her  successor  and  rival, 
for  whose  sake  she  was  made  to  mount  the  scaffold — avenged 
on  Jane  Seymour." 

"  But  she  was  the  king's  beloved  wife,"  said  Jane,  "  and 
when  she  died  the  king  mourned  for  her  two  years." 

"  He  mourned  !  "  exclaimed  Lord  Douglas,  contemptuous- 
ly. "  He  has  mourned  for  all  his  wives.  Even  for  Anne 
Boleyn  he  put  on  mourning,  and  in  his  white  mourning  ap- 
parel, the  day  after  Anne's  execution,  he  led  Jane  Seymour  to 
the  marriage  altar.f  This  outwarU  mourning,  what  does  it 
signify?  Anne  Boleyn  also  mourned  for  Catharine  of  Arra. 
gon,  whom  she  had  pushed  from  the  throne.  For  eight  weeks 
she  was  seen  in  yellow  mourning  on  account  of  Henry's  first 
wife ;  but  Anne  Boleyn  was  a  shrewd  woman,  and  she  knew 
very  well  that  the  yellow  mourning  dress  was  exceedingly 
becoming  to  her."  J 

"  But  the  king's  mourning  was  not  merely  external,"  said 
Lady  Jane.  "  He  mourned  really,  for  it  was  two  years  before 
he  resolved  on  a  new  marriage." 

Earl  Douglas  laughed.  "  But  he  cheered  himself  during 
these  two  years  of  widowhood  with  a  very  beautiful  mistress, 
the  French  Marchioness  de  Montreuil,  and  he  would  have  mar- 
ried her  had  not  the  prudent  beauty  preferred  returning  to 
France,  because  she  found  it  altogether  too  dangerous  to  be- 
come Henry's  consort.  For  it  is  not  to  be  denied,  a  baleful 

*  Tytler,  page  35T.    Lett  vol.  L,  page  180. 
t  Granger  voL  i.,  page  119.  $  Ibid. 


HENET   VHI.    AND   HIS    COURT.  71 

| 

star  hovers  over  Henry's  queens,  and  none  of  them  has  de- 
scended from  the  throne  in  a  natural  way." 

"Yet,  father,  Jane  Seymour  did  so  in  a  very  natural  way ; 
she  died  ift  childbed." 

"  Well,  yes,  in  childbed.  And,  yet  by  no  natural  death,  for 
she  could  have  been  saved.  But  Henry  did  not  wish  to  save 
her.  His  love  had  already  grown  cool,  and  when  the  physi- 
cians asked  him  whether  they  should  save  the  mother  or  the 
child,  he  replied,  '  Save  the  child",  and  let  the  mother  die.  I 
can  get  wives  enough.'  *  Ah,  my  daughter,  I  hope  you 
may  not  die  such  a  natural  death  as  Jane  Seymour  did,  for 
whom,  as  you  say,  the  king  mourned  two  years.  But  after 
that  period,  something  new,  something  altogether  extraordi- 
nary happened  to  the  king.  He  fell  in  love  with  a  picture, 
and  because,  in  his  proud  self-conceit,  he  was  convinced  that 
the  fine  picture  which  Holbein  had  made  of.  7um,  was  not  at 
all  flattered,  but  entirely  true  to  nature,  it  did  not  o'ccur  to  him 
that  Holbein's  likeness  of  the  Princess  Anne  of  Cloves  might 
be  somewhat  flattered,  and  not  altogether  faithful.  So  the 
king  fell  in  love  with  a  picture,  and  sent  ambassadors  to 
Germany  to  bring  the  original  of  the  portrait  to  England  as 
his  bride.  He  himself  went  to  meet  her  at  Rochester,  where 
she  was  to  land.  Ah,  my  child,  I  have  witnessed  many  queer 
and  droll  things  in  my  eventful  life,  but  the  scene  at  Rochester, 
however,  is  among  my  most  spicy  recollections.  The  king 
was  as  enthusiastic  as  a  poet,  and  deep  in  love  as  a  youth  of 
twenty,  and  so  began  our  romantic  wedding-trip,  on  which 
Henry  disguised  himself  and  took  part  in  it,  assuming  the 
name  of  my  cousin.  As  the  king's  master  of  horse,"!  was 
honored  with  the  commission  of  carrying  to  the  young  queen 
the  greeting  of  her  ardent  husband,  and  begging  her  to  receive 
the  knight,  who  would  deliver  to  her  a  present  from  the  king 
She  granted  my  request  with  a  grin  which  made  visible  a 
frightful  row  of  yellow  teeth.  I  opened  the  door,  and  invited 
the  king  to  enter.  Ah,  you  ought  to  have  witnessed  that 

*  Bur-net 


HENKY   Via.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

scene  !  It  is  the  only  farcical  passage  in  the  bloody  tragedy 
of  Henry's  married  life.  You  should  have  seen  with  what 
hasty  impatience  the  king  rushed  in,  then  suddenly,  at  the 
sight  of  her,  staggered  back  and  stared  at  the  princess.  Slow- 
ly retiring,  he  silently  thrust  into  my  hand  the  rich  present 
that  he  had  brought,  while  at  the  same  time  he  threw  a  look 
of  flaming  wrath  on  Lord  Cromwell,  who  had  brought  him 
the  portrait  of  the  princess  and  won  him  to  this  marriage. 
The  romantic,  ardent  lover  vanished  with  this  look  at  his  be- 
loved. He  approached  the  princess  again — this  time  not  as 
a  cavalier,  but,  with  harsh  and  hasty  words,  he  told  her  he 
was  the  king  himself.  He  bade  her  welcome  in  a  few  words, 
and  gave  her  a  cold,  formal  embrace.  He  then  hastily  took 
my  hand  and  drew  me  out  of  the  room,  beckoning  the  rest  to 
follow  him.  And  when  at  length  we  were  out  of  the  atmos- 
phere of  this  poor  ugly  princess,  and  far  enough  away  from 
her,  the  king,  with  angry  countenance,  said  to  Cromwell : 
'  Call  you  that  a  beauty  ?  She  is  a  Flanders  mare,  but  no 
princess.'  *  Anne's  ugliness  was  surely  given  her  of  God, 
that  by  it,  the  Church,  in  which  alone  is  salvation,  might  be 
delivered  from  the  great  danger  which  threatened  it.  For 
had  Anne  of  Cleves,  the  sister,  niece,  grand-daughter  and  aunt 
of  all  the  Protestant  princes  of  Germany,  been  beautiful,  in- 
calculable danger  would  have  threatened  our  church.  The 
king  could  not  overcome  his  repugnance,  and  again  his  con- 
science, which  always  appeared  to  be  most  tender  and  scrupu- 
lous, when  it  was  farthest  from  it  and  most  regardless,  must 
come  to  his  aid. 

"  The  king  declared  that  he  had  been,  only  in  appearance, 
not  in  bis  innermost  conscience,  disposed  to  this  marriage, 
from  which  he  now  shrank  back,  because  it  would  be,  proper- 
ly speaking,  nothing  more  than  perfidy,  perjury,  and  bigamy. 
For  Anne's  father  had  once  betrothed  her  to  the  son  of  the 
Duke  of  Lorraine,  and  had  solemnly  pledged  him  his  word  to 
give  her  as  a  wife  to  the  young  duke  as  soon  as  she  was  of 

*  Burnet,  page  174.    Tytler,  page  417. 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  73 

age  ;  rings  had  been  exchanged  and  the  marriage  contract  al- 
read  drawn  up.  Anne  of  Cleves,  therefore,  was  virtually  atl- 
ready  married,  and  Henry,  with  his  tender  conscience,  could 
not  make  one  already  married  his  wife.*  He  made  her,  there- 
fore, his  sister,  and  gave  her  the  palace  at  Richmond  for  a  resi- 
dence, in  case  she  wished  to  remain  in  England.  She  accepted 
it ;  her  blood,  which  crept  coldly  and  quietly  through  her  veins, 
did  not  rise  at  the  thought  of  being  despised  and  repudiated. 
She  accepted  it,  and  remained  in  England. 

"  She  was  rejected  because  she  was  ugly  ;  and  now  the  king 
selected  Catharine  Howard  for  his  fifth  consort,  because  she 
was  pretty.  Of  this  marriage  I  know  but  little  to  tell  you,  for, 
at  that  time,  I  had  already  gone  to  Dublin  as  minister,  whither 
you  soon  followed  me.  Catharine  was  very  beautiful,  and 
the  king's  heart,  now  growing  old,  once  more  flamed  high 
with  youthful  love.  He  loved  her  more  warmly  than  any 
other  of  his  wives.  He  was  so  happy  in  her,  that  kneeling 
down  publicly  in  the  church,  with  a  loud  voice,  he  thanked 
God  for  the  happiness  which  his  beautiful  young  queen  afford- 
ed him.  But  this  did  not  last  long.  Even  while  the  king  was 
extolling  it,  his  happiness  had  reached  its  highest  point,  and 
the  next  day  he  was  dashed  down  into  the  abyss.  I  speak 
without  poetical  exaggeration,  my  child.  The  day  before,  he 
thanked  God  for  his  happiness,  and  the  next  morning  Catha- 
rine Howard  was  already  imprisoned  and  accused,  as  an  un- 
faithful wife,  a  shameless  strumpet,  f  More  than  seven  lovers 
had  preceded  her  royal  spouse,  and  some  of  them  had  accom- 
panied her  even  on  the  progress  through  Yorkshire,  which  she 
made  with  the  king  her  husband.  This  time  it  was  no  pre- 
tence, for  he  had  not  yet  had  time  to  fall  in  love  with  another 
u  (jinim,  and  Catharine  well  knew  how  to  enchain  him  and 
in  kindle  new  flames  within  him.  But  just  because  he 
lovnl  IUT,  lie  could  not  forgive  her  for  having  deceived  him. 
In  lovf  ih.  :v  i.-  so  much  cruelty  and  hatred  ;  and  Henry,  who 
but  yesterday  lay  at  her  feet,  burned  to-dny  with  rage  and 

•  Hornet.  t  Ty tier,  p«go  482. 

4  . 


74  HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

jealousy,  as  yesterday  with  love  and  rapture.  In  his  rage, 
however,  he  still  loved  her,  and  when  he  held  in  his  hand  in- 
dubitable proof  of  her  guilt,  he  wept  like  a  child.  But  since 
he  could  no  longer  be  her  lover,  he  would  be  her  hangman ; 
since  she  had  spotted  the  crimson  of  his  royal  mantle,  he 
would  dye  it  afresh  with  her  own  crimson  blood.  And  he  did 
so.  Catharine  Howard  was  forced  to  lay  her  beautiful  head 
upon  the  block,  as  Anne  Boleyn  had  done  before  her ;  and 
Anne's  death  was  now  once  more  avenged.  Lady  Rochfort  had 
been  Anne  Boleyn's  accuser,  and  her  testimony  had  brought 
that  queen  to  the  scaffold  ;  but  now  she  was  convicted  of  be- 
ing Catharine  Howard's  assistant  and  confidante  in  her  love 
adventures,*  and  with  Catharine,  Lady  Rochfort  also  ascended 
the  scaffold. 

"Ah,  the  king  needed  a  long  time  to  recover  from  this  blow. 
He  searched  two  years  for  a  pure,  uncontaminated  virgin,  who 
might  become  his  queen  without  danger  of  the  scaffold.  But 
he  found  none ;  so  he  then  took  Lord  Neville's  widow,  Catha- 
rine Parr.  But  you  know,  my  child,  that  Catharine  is  an  un- 
lucky jiame  for  Henry's  queens.  The  first  Catharine  he 
repudiated,  the  second  he  beheaded.  What  will  he  do  with 
the  third?" 

Lady  Jane  smiled.  "  Catharine  does  not  love  him,"  said  she, 
"  and  I  believe  she  would  willingly  consent,  like  Anne  of  Cleves, 
to  become  his  sister,  instead  of  his  wife." 

"•  Catharine  does  not  love  the  king?  "  inquired  Lord  Doug- 
las, in  breathless  suspense.  "  She  loves  another,  then  !  " 

"  No,  my  father  !  Her  heart  is  yet  like  a  sheet  of  white 
paper :  no  single  name  is  yet  inscribed  there." 

"  Then  we  must  write  a  name  there,  and  this  name  must 
drive  her  to  the  scaffold,  or  into  banishment,"  said  her  father 
impetuously.  "  It  is  your  business,  my  child,  to  take  a  steel 
graver,  and  in  some  way  write  a  name  in  Catharine's  heai't  so 
deep  and  indelibly,  that  the  king  may  some  day  read  it  there." 


HENBY  Vm.   AND  HIS  COURT.  75 


CHAPTER 

FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER. 

BOTH  now  kept  silent  for  a  long  time.  Lord  Douglas  had 
leaned  back  on  the  ottoman,  and,  respiring  heavily,  seemed  to 
breathe  a  little  from  the  exertion  of  his  long  discourse.  But 
while  he  rested,  his  large,  piercing  eyes  were  constantly  turned 
to  Jane,  who,  leaning  back  on  the  cushion,  was  staring 
thoughtfully  into  the  empty  air,  and  seemed  to  be  entirely  for- 
getful of  her  father's  presence. 

A  cunning  smile  played  for  a  moment  over  the  counte- 
nance of  the  earl  as  he  observed  her,  but  it  quickly  disappeared, 
and  now  deep  folds  of  care  gathered  on  his  brow. 

As  he  saw  that  Lady  Jane  was  plunging  deeper  and  deeper 
into  reverie,  he  at  length  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder  and 
hastily  asked,  '"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  Jane?" 

She  gave  a  sudden  start,  and  looked  at  the  earl  with  an 
embarrassed  air. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  all  that  you  have  been  saying  to  me,  my 
father,"  replied  she,  calmly.  "  I  am  considering  what  benefit 
to  our  object  I  can  .draw  from  it." 

Lord  Douglas  shook  his  head,  and  smiled  incredulously. 
At  length  he  said  solemnly  :  "  Take  care,  Jane,  take  care  that 
your  heart  does  not  deceive  your  head.  If  we  would  reach 
our  aim  here,  you  must,  above  all  things,  maintain  a  cool  heart 
and  a  cool  head.  Do  you  still  possess  both,  Jane?  " 

In  confusion  she  cast  down  her  eyes  before  his  penetrating 
look.  Lord  Douglas  noticed  it,  and  a  passionate  word  was 
already  on  his  lips.  But  ho  kept  it  back.  As  a  prudeut  dip- 
lomatc,  he  knew  that  it  is  often  more  politic  to  destroy  a  thing 
by  ignoring  it,  than  to  enter  into  an  open  contest  with  it. 
The  feelings  are  like  the  dragons'  teeth  of  Theseus.  If  you 
contend  with  thorn,  they  always  grow  again  anew,  and  with 
renewed  energy,  out  of  the  soil. 


76  HENRY    Vm.    AOT>   HI8   COURT. 


Lord  Douglas,  therefore,  was  very  careful  not  to  notice  his 
daughter's  confusion.  "  Pardon  me,  my  daughter,  if,  in  my 
zeal  and  my  tender  care  for  you,  I  go  too  far.  I  know  that 
your  dear  and  beautiful  head  is  cool  enough  to  wear  a  crown. 
I  know  that  in  your  heart  dwell  only  ambition  and  religion. 
Let  us,  then,  further  consider  what  we  have  to  do  in  order  to 
attain  our  end. 

"  We  have  spoken  of  Henry  as  a  husband,  of  Henry  as  a 
man  ;  and  I  hope  you  have  drawn  some  useful  lessons  from 
the  fate  of  his  wives.  You  have  learned  that  it  is  necessary 
to  possess  all  the  good  and  all  the  bad  qualities  of  woman  in 
order  to  control  this  stiff-necked  and  tyrannical,  this  lustful  and 
bigoted,  this  vain  and  sensual  man,  whom  the  wrath  of  God 
has  made  King  of  England.  You  must,  before  all  things,  be 
perfect  master  of  the  difficult  art  of  coquetry.  You  must  be- 
come a  female  Proteus  —  to-day  a  Messalina,  to-morrow  a 
nun  ;  to-day  one  of  the  literati,  to-morrow  a  playful  child  ; 
you  must  ever  seek  to  surprise  the  king,  to  keep  him  on  the 
stretch,  to  enliven  him.  You  must  never  give  way  to  the 
dangerous  feeling  of  security,  for  in  fact  King  Henry's  wife  is 
never  safe.  The  axe  always  hangs  over  her  head,  and  you 
must  ever  consider  your  husband  as  only  a  fickle  lover,  whom 
you  must  every  day  captivate  anew." 

"You  speak  as  though  I  were  already  queen,"  said  Lady 
Jane,  smiling  ;  "  and  yet  I  cannot  but  think  that,  in  order  to 
come  to  that,  many  difficulties  are  to  be  overcome,  which  may 
indeed  perhaps  be  insuperable." 

"Insuperable  !  "  exclaimed  her  father  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders.  "With  the  aid  of  the  holy  Church,  no  hinderance 
is  insuperable.  Only,  we  must  be  perfectly  acquainted  with 
our  end  and  our  means.  Do  not  despise,  then,  to  sound  the 
character  of  this  king  ever  and  again,  and  be  certain  you  will 
always  find  in  him  some  new  hidden  recess,  some  surprising 
peculiarity.  We  have  spoken  of  him  as  a  husband  and  the 
father  of  a  family,  but  of  his  religious  and  political  standing,  I 
have  as  yet  told  you  nothing.  And  yet  that,  my  child,  is  the 
principal  point  in  his  whole  character. 


Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  77 

"  In  the  first  place,  then,  Jane,  I  will  tell  you  a  secret. 
The  king,  who  has  constituted  himself  high-priest  of  his 
Church — whom  the  pope  once  called  'the  Knight  of  the 
Truth  and  the  Faith ' — the  king  has  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart 
no  religion.  He  is  a  wavering  reed,  which  the  wind  turns  this 
way  to-day,  and  tljat  way  to-morrow.  He  knows  not  his  own 
will,  and,  coquetting  with  both  parties,  to-day  he  is  a  heretic, 
in  order  to  exhibit  himself  as  a  strong,  unprejudiced,  enlight- 
ened man  ;  to-morrow  a  Catholic,  in  order  to  show  himself  an 
obedient  and  humble  servant  of  God,  who  seeks  and  finds  his 
happiness  only  in  love  and  piety.  But  for  both  confessions 
of  faith  he  possesses  at  heart  a  profound  indifference  ;  and  had 
the  pope  at  that  time  placed  no  difficulties  in  his  way,  had  he 
consented  to  his  divorce  from  Catharine,  Henry  would  have 
always  remained  a  very  good  and  active  servant  of  the  Catho- 
lic Church.  But  they  were  imprudent  enough  to  irritate  him 
by  contradiction  ;  they  stimulated  his  vanity  and  pride  to  resist- 
ance ;  and  so  Henry  became  a  church  reformer,  not  from  con- 
viction, but -out  of  pure  love  of  opposition.  And  that,  my 
child,  you  must  never  forget,  for,  by  means  of  this  lever,  you 
may  very  well  convert  him  again  to  a  devout,  dutiful,  and  obe- 
dient servant  of  our  holy  Church.  He  has  renounced  the 
pope,  and  usurped  the  supremacy  of  the  Church,  but  he  cannot 
summon  up  courage  to  carry  out  his  work  and  throw  himself 
wholly  into  the  arms  of  the  Reformation.  However  much  he 
lias  opposed  the  person  of  the  pope,  still  he  has  always  re- 
mained devoted  to  the  Church,  although  perhaps  he  does  not 
know  it  himself.  He  is  no  Catholic,  and  he  hears  mass  ;  he 
has  broken  up  the  monasteries,  and  yet  forbids  priests  to 
mnrry ;  he  has  the  Lord's  supper  administered  under  both 
kinds,  and  believes  in  the  real  transubstantiation  of  the  wine 
into  the  Redeemer's  holy  blood.  He  destroys  the  convents, 
and  yet  commands  that  vows  of  chastity,  spoken  by  man  or 
woman,  must  be  faithfully  kept ;  and  lastly,  auricular  confes- 
sion is  still  a  necessary  constituent  of  his  Church.  And  these 
he  calls  his  six  articles,*  and  the  foundation  of  his  English 

*  Burnct,  voL  L,  page  259.    Tjrtlfrr,  ptge  402. 


78  HENEY   VTH.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

Church.  Poor,  short-sighted  and  vain  man  !  He  knows  not 
that  he  has  done  all  this,  only  because  he  wanted  to  be  the  pope 
•himselfj  and  that  he  is  nothing  more  than  an  anti-pope  of  the 
Holy  Father  at  Rome,  whom  he,  in  his  blasphemous  pride, 
dares  call  '  the  Bishop  of  Rome.' " 

"  But,  for  this  audacity,"  said  Jane,  wijh  looks  of  burning 
rage,  "  the  anathema  has  struck  him  and  laid  a  curse  upon  his 
head,  and  given  him  up  to  the  hatred,  contempt,  and  scorn 
of  his  own  subjects.  Therefore,  the  Holy  Father  has  justly 
named  him  '  the  apostate  and  lost  son,  the  blaspheming 
usurper  of  the  holy  Church/  Therefore,  the  pope  has  de- 
clared his  crown  forfeited,  and  promised  it  to  him  who  will 
vanquish  him  by  force  of  arms.  Therefore,  the  pope  has  for- 
bidden any  of  his  subjects  to  obey  him,  and  respect  and  recog- 
nize him  as  king."  * 

"And  yet  he  remains  King  of  England,  and  his  subjects 
still  obey  him  in  slavish  submission,"  exclaimed  Earl  Douglas, 
shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  It  is  very  unwise  to  go  so  far  in 
threats,  for  one  should  never  threaten  with  punishment  which  he 
is  not  likewise  able  to  really  execute.  This  Romish  interdict  has 
rather  been  an  advantage  to  the  king,  than  done  him  harm, 
for  it  has  forced  the  king  into  haughtier  opposition,  and  proved 
to  his  subjects  that  a  man  may  really  be  under  an  interdict, 
and  yet  in  prosperity  and  the  full  enjoyment  of  life." 

"  The  pope's  excommunication  has  not  hurt  the  king  at 
all ;  his  throne  has  not  felt  the  slightest  jar  from  it,  but  the 
apostasy  of  the  king  has  deprived  the  Holy  See  at  Rome  of  a 
very  perceptible  support ;  therefore  we  must  bring  the  faithless 
king  back  to  the  holy  Church,  for  she  needs  him.  And  this, 
my  daughter,  is  the  work  that  God  and  the  will  of  His  holy 
representative  have  placed  in  your  hands.  A  noble,  glorious, 
and  at  the  same  time  profitable  work,  for  it  makes  you  a 
queen !  But  I  repeat,  be  cautious,  never  irritate  the  king  by 
contradiction.  Without  their  knowing  it,  we  must  lead  the 
wavering  where  salvation  awaits  them.  For,  as  we  have  said, 

*  Leti,  voL  L,  page  134 


HENKT   VIH.    AND   HIS   COTJBT.  79 

he  is  a  waverer ;  and  in  the  haughty  pride  of  his  royalty,  he 
has  the  presumption  to  wish  to  stand  above  all  parties,  and  to 
be  himself  able  to  found  a  new  Church,  a  Church  which  is 
neither  Catholic  nor  Protestant,  but  his  Church  ;  to  which,  in 
the  six  articles,  the  so-called  *  Bloody  Statute,'  he  has  given 
its  laws. 

"  He  will  not  be  Protestant  nor  Catholic,  and,  in  order  to 
show  his  impartiality,  he  is  an  equally  terrible  persecutor  of 
both  parties.  So  that  it  has  come  to  pass  that  we  must  say, 
'  In  England,  Catholics  are  hanged,  and  those  not  such  are 
burned.'  *  It  gives  the  king  pleasure  to  hold  with  steady  and 
cruel  hand  the  balance  between  the  two  parties,  and  on  the 
same  day  that  he  has  a  papist  incarcerated,  because  he  has 
disputed  the  king's  supremacy,  he  has  one  of  the  reformed 
put  upon  the  rack,  because  he  has  denied  the  real  transubstan- 
tiation  of  the  wine,  or  perhaps  has  disputed  concerning  the 
necessity  of  auricular  confession.  Indeed,  during  the  last 
session  of  Parliament,  five  men  were  hanged  because  they  dis- 
puted the  supremacy,  and  five  others  burned  because  they  pro- 
fessed the  reformed  views  !  And  this  evening,  Jane — this,  the 
king's  wedding-night — by  the  special  order  of  the  king,  who 
wanted  to  show  his  impartiality  as  head  of  the  Church,  Catho- 
lics and  Protestants  have  been  coupled  together  like  dogs,  and 
hurried  to  the  stake,  the  Catholics  being  condemned  as  traitors, 
and  the  others  as  heretics  ! "  f 

"  Oh,"  said  Jane,  shuddering  and  turning  pale,  "  I  will 
not  be  Queen  of  England.  I  have  a  horror  of  this  cruel, 
savage  king,  whoso  heart  is  wholly  without  compassion  or 
pity ! " 

Her  father  laughed.  "  Do  you  not  then  know,  child,  how 
you  can  make  the  hyena  gentle,  and  the  tiger  tame?  You 
throw  them  again  and  again  a  fresh  prey,  which  they  may  de- 
vour, and  since  they  lovo  blood  so  dearly,  you  constantly  i_ri\v 
them  blood  to  drink,  so  that  they  may  never  thirst  for  it.  The 
king's  only  steady  and  unchanging  peculiarity  is  his  cruelty 

*  Lctl,  vol.  I,  page  142.  t  Ty tier,  pago  28. 


80  HENET  VHI.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

and  delight  in  blood  ;  one  then  must  always  have  some  food 
ready  for  these,  then  he  "will  ever  be  a  very  affectionate  and 
gracious  king  and  husband. 

"  And  there  is  no  lack  of  objects  for  this  bloodthirstiness. 
There  are  so  many  men  and  women  at  his  court,  and  when  he 
is  precisely  in  a  bloodthirsty  humor,  it  is  all  the  same  to 
Henry  whose  blood  he  drinks.  He  has  shed  the  blood  of  his 
wives  and  relatives ;  he  has  executed  those  whom  he  called 
his  most  confidential  friends  ;  he  has  sent  the  noblest  men  of 
his  kingdom  to  the  scaffold. 

"  Thomas  More  knew  him  .very  well,  and  in  a  few  striking 
words  he  summed  up  the  whole  of  the  king's  character.  Ah,  it 
seems  to  me  that  I  see  now  the  quiet  and  gentle  face  of  this  wise 
man,  as  I  saw  him  standing  in  yonder  bay-window,  and  near  him 
the  king,  his  arms  around  the  neck  of  High-Chancellor  More, 
and  listening  to  his  discourse  with  a  kind  of  reverential  devo- 
tion. And  when  the  king  had  gone,  I  walked  up  to  Thomas 
More  and  congratulated  him  on  the  high  and  world-renowned 
favor  in  which  he  stood  with  the  king.  '  The  king  really  loves 
you,'  said  L  '  Yes,'  replied  he,  with  his  quiet,  sad  smile, '  yes, 
the  king  truly  loves  me.  But  that  would  not  for  one  moment 
hinder  him  from  giving  my  head  for  a  valuable  diamond,  a 
beautiful  woman,  or  a  hand's  breadth  of  land  in  France.'  * 
He  was  right,  and  for  a  beautiful  woman,  the  head  of  this  sage 
had  to  fall,  of  whom  the  most  Christian  emperor  and  king, 
Charles  V.,  said :  '  Had  I  been  the  master  of  such  a  servant, 
of  whose  ability  and  greatness  we  have  had  so  much  experi- 
ence for  many  years  ;  had  I  possessed  an  adviser  so  wise  and 
earnest  as  Thomas  More  was,  I  would  rather  have  lost  the 
best  city  of  my  realm,  than  so  worthy  a  servant  and  coun- 
sellor .'f 

"  No,  Jane,  be  that  your  first  and  most  sacred  rule,  never 
to  trust  the  king,  and  never  reckon  on  the  duration  of  his  af- 
fection and  the  manifestations  of  his  favor.  For,  in  the  per- 
fidy of  his  heart,  it  often  pleases  him  to  load  with  tokens  of 

*  Leti,  vol.  i,  page  194  t  Tytler,  page  8M. 


HENRY   Vni.    AND   HIS   COUET.  81 

his  favor  those  whose  destruction  he  has  already  resolved 
upon,  and  to  adorn  and  decorate  with  orders  and  jewels  to-day 
those  whom  to-morrow  he  is  going  to  put  to  death.  It  flatters 
his  self-compleacency,  like  the  lion,  to  play  a  little  with  the 
puppy  he  is  about  to  devour.  Thus  did  he  with  Cromwell,  for 
many  years  his  counsellor  and  friend,  who  had  committed  no 
other  crime  than  that  of  having  first  exhibited  to  the  king  the 
portrait  of  the  ugly  Anne  of  Cleves,  whom  Holbein  had  turned 
into  a  beauty.  But  the  king  took  good  care  not  to  be  angry 
with  Cromwell,  or  to  reproach  him  for  it.  Much  more — in  rec- 
ognition of  his  great  services,  he  raised  him  to  the  earldom 
of  Essex,  decorated  him  with  the  Order  of  the  Garter  and  ap- 
pointed him  lord  chamberlain ;  and  then,  when  Cromwell  felt 
perfectly  secure  and  proudly  basked  in  the  sunshine  of  royal 
favor,  then  all  at  once  the  king  had  him  arrested  and  dragged 
to  the  tower,  in  order  to  accuse  him  of  high  treason.  *  And  so 
Cromwell  was  executed,  because  Anne  of  Cleves  did  not  please 
the  king,  and  because  Hans  Holbein  had  flattered  her  picture. 
"  But  now  we  have  had  enough  of  the  past,  Jane.  Now 
let  us  speak  of  the  present  and  of  the  future,  my  daughter. 
Let  us  now  first  of  all  devise  the  means  to  overthrow  this  wo- 
man who  stands  in  our  way.  When  she  is  once  overthrown, 
it  will  not  be  very  difficult  for  us  to  put  you  in  her  place.  For 
you  are  now  here,  near  the  king.  The  great  mistake  in  our 
earlier  efforts  was,  that  we  were  not  present  and  could  \vork 
only  through  go-betweens  and  confidants.  The  king  did  not 
see  you,  and  since  the  unlucky  affair  with  Anne  of  Cleves  he 
mistrusts  likenesses ;  I  very  well  knew  that,  for  I,  my  child, 
confide  in  no  one,  not  even  in  the  most  faithful  and  noblest 
friends.  I  rely  upon  nobody  but  ourselves.  Had  we  J)een 
here,  you  would  now  be  Queen  of  England  instead  of  Cathe- 
rine Parr.  But,  to  our  misfortune,  I  was  still  the  favorite  of 
the  Regent  of  Scotland,  and  as  such,  I  could  not  venture  to 
approach  Henry.  It  was  necessary  that  I  should  fall  into  dis- 
grace there,  in  order  to  be  again  sure  of  the  king's  favor  here. 

*  Tytlcr,  page  488. 


82  HENKY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COUBT. 

"  So  I  fell  into  disgrace  and  fled  with  you  hither.  Now, 
then,  here  we  are,  and  let  the  fight  begin.  And  you  have  to- 
day already  taken  an  important  step  toward  our  end.  You 
have  attracted  the  notice  of  the  king,  and  established  yourself 
still  more  securely  in  the  favor  of  Catharine.  I  confess,  Jane, 
I  am  charmed  with  your  prudent  conduct.  You  have  this  day 
won  the  hearts  of  all  parties,  and  it  was  wonderfully  shrewd 
in  you  to  come  to  the  aid  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  as  you  at  the 
same  time  won  to  you  the  heretical  party,  to  which  Anne 
Askew  belongs.  Oh,  it  was  indeed,  Jane,  a  stroke  of  policy 
that  you  made.  For  the  Howard  family  is  the  most  powerful 
and  greatest  at  court,  and  Henry,  Earl  of  Surrey,  is  one  of  its 
noblest  representatives.  Therefore  we  have  now  already  a 
powerful  party  at  court,  which  has  in  view  only  the  high  and 
holy  aim  of  securing  a  victory  for  the  holy  "Church,  and 
which  quietly  and  silently  works  only  for  this — to  again  rec- 
oncile the  king  to  the  pope.  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey, 
like  his  father,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  is  a  good  Catholic,  as  his 
niece  Catharine  Howard  was  ;  only  she,  besides  God  and  the 
Church,  was  a  little  too  fond  of  the  images  of  God — fine-look- 
ing men.  It  was  this  that  gave  the  victory  to  the  other  party, 
and  forced  the  Catholic  to  succumb  to  the  heretical  party  at 
court.  Yes,  for  the  moment,  Cranmer  with  Catharine  has  got 
the  better  of  us,  but  soon  Gardiner  with  Jane  Douglas  will 
overcome  the  heretics,  and  send  them  to  the  scaffold.  That  is 
our  plan,  and,  God  permitting,  we  will  carry  it  out." 

"  But  it  will  be  a  difficult  undertaking,"  said  Lady  Jane, 
with  a  sigh.  "  The  queen  is  a  pure,  transparent  soul ;  she 
has  a  shrewd  head  and  a  clear  glance.  She  is,  moreover,  guile- 
less in.  her  thoughts,  and  recoils  with  true  maidenly  timidity 
from  every  sin." 

"  "We  must  cure  her  of  this  timidity,  and  that  is  your  task, 
Jane.  You  must  despoil  her  of  these  strict  notions  about  vir- 
tue. With  flattering  voice  you  must  ensnare  her  heart,  and 
entice  it  to  sin." 

"  Ob,  that  is  an  infernal  plot !  "    said  Lady  Jane,  turning 


HENEY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT.  83 

pale.  "  That,  my  father,  would  be  a  crime,  for  that  would  be 
not  only  destroying  her  earthly  happiness,  but  also  imperil- 
ling her  soul.  I  must  entice  her  to  a  crime  ;  that  is  your  dis- 
honorable demand  !  But  I  will  not  obey  you  !  It  is  true,  I 
hate  her,  for  she  stands  in  the  way  of  my  ambition.  It  is  true 
I  will  destroy  her,  for  she  wears  the  crown  which  I  wish  to 
possess  ;  but  never  will  I  be  so  base  as  to  pour  into  her  very 
heart  the  poison  by  which  she  shall  fall.  Let  her  seek  the 
poison  for  herself ;  I  will  not  hold  back  her  hand ;  I  will  not 
warn  her.  Let  her  seek  the  ways  of  sin  herself :  I  will  not 
tell  her  that  she  has  erred  ;  but  I  will,  from  afar,  dog  her,  and 
watch  each  step,  and  listen  for  every  word  and  sigh,  and  when 
she  has  committed  a  crime,  then  will  I  betray  her,  and  deliver 
her  up  to  her  judges.  That  is  what  I  can  and  will  do. 
I  will  be  the  demon  to  drive  her  from  paradise  in  God's 
name,  but  not  the  serpent  to  entice  her  in  the  devil's  name  to 
sin." 

She  paused,  and,  panting  for  breath,  sunk  back  upon  the 
cushion ;  but  her  father's  hand  was  laid  upon  her  shoulder 
with  a  convulsive  grip,  and  pale  with  rage  and  with  eyes  flash- 
ing with  anger,  he  stared  at  her. 

A  cry  of  terror  burst  from  Lady  Jane.  She,  who  never 
had  seen  her  father  but  smiling  and  full  of  kindness,  scarcely 
recognized  that  countenance,  distorted  with  rage.  She  could 
scarcely  convince  herself  that  this  man,  with  eyes  darting  fire, 
scowling  eyebrows  and  lips  quivering  with  rage,  was  really  her 
father.  . 

"  You  will  not  ?  exclaimed  he,  with  a  hollow,  threatening 
voice.  "  You  dare  rebel  against  the  holy  commands  of  the 
Church?  Have  you,  then,  forgotten  what  you  promised  to 
the  Holy  Fathers,  whose  pupil  you  are  ?  Have  you  forgotten 
that  the  brothers  and  sisters  of  the  Holy  League  arc  permitted 
to  have  no  other  will  than  that  of  their  masters  !  Have  you 
forgotten  the  sublime  vow  which  you  made  to  our  master, 
Ignatius  Loyola?  Answer  me,  unfaithful  and  disobedient 
daughter  of  the  Church  !  Repeat  to  mo  the  oath  which  you 


84:  HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS    COTJBT. 

took  when  he  received  you  into  the  holy  Society  of  the  Dis- 
ciples of  Jesus  !  Repeat  your  oath,  I  say  !  " 

As  if  constrained  by  an  invisible  power,  Jane  had  arisen , 
and  now  stood,  her  hands  folded  across  her  breast,  submissive 
and  trembling  before  her  father,  whose  erect,  proud,  and  wrath- 
ful form  towered  above  her. 

"  I  have  sworn,"  said  she,  "  to  subject  my  own  thought, 
and  will,  my  life,  and  endeavors,  obediently  to  the  will  of  the 
Holy  Father.  I  have  sworn  to  be  a  blind  tool  in  the  hands  of 
my  masters,  and  to  do  only  what  they  command  and  enjoin.  I 
have  vowed  to  serve  the  holy  Church,  in  which  alone  is  salva- 
tion, in  every  way  and  with  all  the  means  at  my  command  ; 
that  I  will  despise  none  of  these  means,  consider  none  tri- 
fling, disdain  none,  provided  it  leads  to  the  end.  For  the  end 
sanctifies  the  means,  and  nothing  is  a  sin  which  is  done  for 
the  honor  of  God  and  the  Church  !  " 

"Ad  majorem  Dei  gloriam  !  "  said  her  father,  devoutly  fold- 
ing his  hands.  "  And  know  you  what  awaits  you,  if  you  vio- 
late your  oath  ?  " 

"  Earthly  disgrace  and  eternal  destruction  await  me.  The 
curse  of  all  my  brethren  and  sisters  awaits  me — eternal  dam- 
nation and  punishment.  "With  thousands  of  torments  and  tor- 
tures of  the  rack,  will  the  Holy  Fathers  put  me  to  death  ;  and 
as  they  kill  my  body  and  throw  it  as  food  to  the  beasts  of 
prey,  they  will  curse  my  soul  and  deliver  it  over  to  purgatory." 

"  And  what  awaits  you  if  you  remain  faithful  to  your  oath, 
and  obey  the  commands  given  you?" 

"  Honor  and  glory  on  earth,  besides  eternal  blessedness  in 
heaven." 

"  Then  you  will  be  a  queen  on  earth  and  a  queen  in  heav- 
en. You  know,  then,  the  sacred  laws  of  the  society,  and  you 
remember  your  oath  ?  " 

"  I  remember  it." 

"  And  you  know  that  the  holy  Loyola,  before  he  left  us, 
gave  the  Society  of  Jesus,  in  England,  a'  master  and  general, 
whom  all  the  brethren  and  sisters  must  serve  and  submit  to  ; 


HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  85 

to  whom  they  owe  blind  obedience  and  service  without  ques- 
tioning ?  " 

"  I  know  it." 

"  And  you  know,  likewise,  by  what  sign  the  associates  may 
recognize  the  general  ?  " 

"  By  Loyola's  ring,  which  he  wears  on  the  forefinger  of  his 
right  hand." 

"  Behold  here  this  ring ! "  said  the  earl,  drawing  his  hand 
out  of  his  doublet. 

Lady  Jane  uttered  a  cry,  and  sank  almost  senseless  at  his 
feet. 

Lord  Douglas,  smiling  graciously,  raised  her  in  his  arms. 
"  You  see,  Jane,  I  am  not  merely  your  father,  but  your  mas- 
ter also.  And  you  will  obey  me,  will  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  will  obey  !  "  said  she,  almost  inaudibly,  as  she  kissed 
the  hand  with  the  fatal  ring. 

"  You  will  be  to  Catharine  Parr,  as  you  have  expressed  it, 
the  serpent,  that  seduces  her  to  sin  ?  " 

"  I  will." 

"  You  will  beguile  her  into  sin,  and  entice  her  to  indulge  a 
love  which  must  lead  her  to  destruction  ?  " 

"  I  will  do  it,  my  father." 

"  I  will  now  tell  you  whom  she  is  to  love,  and  who  is  to 
be  the  instrument  of  destruction.  You  will  so  manage  the 
queen  that  she  will  love  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey." 

Jane  uttered  a  scream,  and  clung  to  the  back  of  a  chair  to 
keep  from  falling. 

Her  father  observed  her  with  penetrating,  angry  looks. 
"  What  means  this  outcry?  Why  docs  this  choice  surprise 
you  ?  "  asked  he. 

Lady  Jane  had  already  gained  her  self-possession.  "  It 
surprised  me,"  said  she,  "  because  the  earl  is  betrothed." 

A  singular  smile  played  about  the  earl's  lips.  "  It  is  not 
the  first  time,"  said  he,  "  that  even  a  man  already  married 
has  become  dangerous  to  a  woman's  heart,  and  often  the  very 
impossibility  of  possession  adds  fuel  to  the  flames  of  love. 


86  HENRY   Vm.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

Woman's  heart  is  ever  so  full  of  selfishness  and  contradic- 
tion." 

Lady  Jane  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  made  no  reply.  She 
felt  that  the  piercing  and  penetrating  look  of  her  father  was 
resting  on  her  face.  She  knew  that,  just  then,  he  was  reading 
her  soul,  although  she  did  not  look  at  him. 

"  Then  you  no  longer  refuse  ?  "  asked  he,  at  length.  "  You 
will  inspire  the  young  queen  with  love  for  the  Earl  of  Surrey  ?  " 

"  I  will  endeavor  to  do  it,  -my  father." 

"  If  you  try,  with  a  real  and  energetic  determination  to 
succeed,  you  will  prevail.  For,  as  you  said,  the  queen's  heart 
is  still  free  ;  it  is,  then,  like  a  fruitful  soil,  which  is  only  wait- 
ing for  some  one  to  sow  the  seed  in  it,  to  bring  forth  flowers 
and  fruit.  Catharine  Parr  does  not  love  the  king ;  you  will, 
then,  teach  her  to  love  Henry  Howard." 

"  Yet,  my  father,"  said  Lady  Jane,  with  a  sarcastic  smile, 
"  to  bring  about  this  result,  one  must,  before  all  things,  be  ac- 
quainted with  a  magic  spell,  through  the  might  of  which  the 
earl  will  first  glow  with  love  for  Catharine.  For  the  queen 
has  a  proud  soul,  and  she  will  never  so  forget  her  dignity  as 
to  love  a  man  who  is  not  inflamed  with  an  ardent  passion  for 
her.  But  the  earl  has  not  only  a  bride,  but,  as  it  is  said,  a 
mistress  also." 

"  Ah !  you  consider  it,  then,  perfectly  unworthy  of  a  wo- 
man to. love  a  man  who  does  not  adore  her?"  asked  the  earl, 
in  a  significant  tone.  "  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  this  from  my 
daughter,  and  thus  to  be  certain  that  she  will  not  fall  in  love 
with  the  earl  of  Surrey,  who  is  everywhere  else  called  '  the 
lady-killer.'  And  if  you  have  informed  yourself  in  so  surpris- 
ing a  manner  as  to  the  earl's  private  relations,  you  have  done 
so,  without  doubt,  only  because  your  sagacious  and  subtle 
head'  has  already  guessed  what  commission  I  would  give  you 
with  respect  to  the  earl.  Besides,  my  daughter,  you  are  in 
error :  and  if  a  certain  high,  but  not  on  that  account  the  less 
very  unfortunate  lady,  should  happen  to  really  love  the  Earl 
of  Surrey,  her  lot  will,  perhaps,  be  the  common  one — to  prac- 
tise resirrnation." 


HENEY   Vni.    AND   HIB   COURT.  87 

An  expression  of  joyful  surprise  passed  over  the  counte- 
nance of  Lady  Jane,  while  her  father  thus  spoke  ;  but  it  was 
forced  to  instantly  give  way  to  a  deathly  paleness,  as  the  earl 
added  :  "  Henry  Howard  is  destined  for  Catharine  Parr,  and 
you  are  to  help  her  to  love  so  hotly  this  proud,  handsome  earl, 
who  is  a  faithful  servant  of  the  Church,  wherein  alone  is  sal- 
vation, that  she  will  forget  all  considerations  and  all  dangers." 

Lady  Jane  ventured  one  more  objection.  She  caught 
eagerly  at  her  father's  words,  to  seek  still  for  some  way  of 
escape. 

"  You  call  the  earl  a  faithful  servant  of  our  Church,"  said 
she,  "  and  yet  you  would  implicate  him  also  in  your  danger- 
ous plot?  You  have  not,  then,  my  father,  considered  that  it 
is  just  as  pernicious  to  love  the  queen  as  to  be  loved  by  her? 
And,  without  doubt,  if  love  for  the  Earl  of  Surrey  bring  the 
queen  to  the  scaffold,  the  head  of  the  earl  will  fall  at  the  same 
time,  no  matter  whether  he  return  her  love  or  not." 

The  earl  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  When  the  question  is  about  the  weal  of  the  Church  and 
our  holy  religion,  the  danger  which,  thereby,  it  may  be, 
threatens  one  of  our  number,  must  not  frighten  us  back. 
Holy  sacrifices  must  be  always  offered  to  a  holy  cause.  Well 
and  good,  then,  let  the  earl's  head  fall,  provided  the  only  sav- 
ing Church  gains  new  vigor  from  this  blood  of  martyrs.  But 
see,  Jane,  the  morning  already  begins  to  dawn,  and  I  must 
hasten  to  leave  you,  lest  these  courtiers,  ever  given  to  slan- 
dering, may  in  some  way  or  other  take  the  father  for  a  lover, 
and  cast  suspicion  on  the  immaculate  virtue  of  my  Jane. 
Farewell,  then,  my  daughter  !  *  We  both,  now,  know  our  roles, 
and  will  take  care  to  play  them  with  success.  You  are  the 
friend  and  confidante  of  the  queen,  and  I  the  harmless  courtier, 
who  tries,  now  and  then,  to  gain  a  smile  from  the  king  by 
some  kind  and  merry  jest.  That  is  all.  Good-morning,  then, 
Jane,  and  good-night.  For  you  must  sleep,  my  child,  so  that 
your  cheeks  may  remain  fresh  and  your  eyes  bright.  The 
king  hates  pining  pale-faces.  Sleep,  then,  future  Queen  of 
En-land  ! " 


88  HENRY  TUT.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

He  gently  kissed  her  forehead,  and  left  the  room  -with  lin- 
gering step. 

Lady  Jane  stood  and  listened  to  the  sound  of  his  footsteps 
gradually  dying  away,  when  she  sank  on  her  knees,  wholly 
crushed,  utterly  stunned. 

"  My  God,  my  God  !  "  murmured  she,  while  streams  of 
tears  flooded  her  face,  "  and  I  am  to  inspire  the  queen  with 
love  for  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  and  I — I  love  him  !  " 


CHAPTER  IX. 

LENDEMAIN. 

THE  great  levee  was  over.  Sitting  beside  the  king  on  the 
throne,  Catharine  had  received  the  congratulations  of  her 
court;  and  the  king's  smiling  look,  and  the  tender  words 
which,  in  undertone,  he  now  and  then  addressed  to  the  queen, 
had  manifested  to  the  prudent  and  expert  courtiers  that  the 
king  was  to-day  just  as  much  enamored  of  his  young  consort 
as  he  had  been  yesterday  of  his  bride.  Therefore,  every  one 
exerted  himself  to  please  the  queen,  and  to  catch  every  look, 
ever/  smile,  which  she  let  fall,  like  sunbeams,  here  and  there, 
in  order  to  see  for  whom  they  were  intended,  so  that  they 
might,  perchance,  by  this  means,  divine  who  were  to  be  the 
future  favorites  of  the  queen,  and  be  the  first  to  become  inti- 
mate with  them. 

But  the  young  queen  directed  her  looks  to  no  one  in  partic- 
ular. She  was  friendly  and  smiling,  yet  one  felt  that  this 
friendliness  was  constrained,  this  smile  full  of  sadness.  The 
king  alone  did  not  notice  it.  He  was  cheerful  and  happy,  and 
it  seemed  to  him,  therefore,  that  nobody  at  his  court  could 
dare  sigh  when  he,  the  king,  was  satisfied. 

After  the  grand  presentation,  at  which  all  the  great  and 
noble  of  the  realm  had  passed  in  formal  procession  before  the 
royal  pair,  the  king  had,  according  to  the  court  etiquette  of 


HENTRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  89 

the  time,  given  his  hand  to  his  consort,  led  her  down  from  the 
throne  and  conducted  her  to  the  middle  of  the  hall,  in  order  to 
present  to  her  the  personages  in  waiting  at  her  court. 

But  this  walk  from  the  throne  to  the  centre  of  the  hall  had 
greatly  fatigued  the  king ;  this  promenade  of  thirty  steps  was 
for  him  a  very  unusual  and  troublesome  performance,  and  the 
king  longed  to  change  to  something  else  more  agreeable.  So 
he  beckoned  to  the  chief  master  of  ceremonies,  and  bade  him 
open  the  door  leading  into  the  dining-room.  Then  he  ordered 
his  "  house  equipage "  to  be  brought  up,  and,  seating  himself 
in  it  with  the  utmost  stateliness,  he  had  the  sedan  kept  at  the 
queen's  side,  waiting  impatiently  till  the  presentation  should 
at  last  conclude,  and  Catharine  accompany  him  to  lunch. 

The  announcements  of  the  maids  of  honor  and  female  at- 
tendants had  been  already  made,  and  now  came  the  gentle- 
men's turn. 

The  chief  master  of  ceremonies  read  from  his  list  the 
names  of  those  cavaliers  who  were,  henceforth,  to  be  in  wait- 
ing near  the  queen,  and  which  names  the  king  had  written 
down  with  his  own  hand.  And  at  each  new  appointment  a 
slight  expression  of  pleased  astonishment  flitted  across  the 
faces  of  the  assembled  courtiers,  for  it  was  always  one  of  the 
youngest,  handsomest,  and  most  amiable  lords  whom  the 
master  of  ceremonies  had  to  name. 

Perhaps  the  king  proposed  to  play  a  cruel  game  at  hazard, 
in  surrounding  his  consort  with  the  young  men  of  his  court ; 
he  wished  to  plunge  her  into  the  midst  of  danger,  either  to  let 
her  perish  there,  or,  by  her  avoiding  danger,  to  be  able  to 
place  the  unimpeachable  virtue  of  his  young  wife  in  the  clear- 
est light. 

The  list  had  begun  with  the  less  important  offices,  and, 
ever  ascending  higher,  they  now  came  to  positions  the  highest 
and  of  greatest  consequence. 

Still  the  queen's  master  of  horse  and  the  chamberlain  had 
not  been  named,  and  these  were  without  doubt  the  most  impor- 
tant charges  at  the  queen's  court.  For  one  or  tho  other  of 


90  HENET   Vin.   AND   HIS   COUBT. 

these  officers  was  always  very  near  the  queen.  When  she 
was  in  the  palace,  the  lord  of  the  chamber  had  to  remain  in 
the  anteroom,  and  no  one  could  approach  the  queen  but 
through  his  mediation.  To  him  the  queen  had  to  give  her 
orders  with  regard  to  the  schemes  and  pleasures  of  the  day. 
He  was  to  contrive  new  diversions  and  amusements.  He  had 
the  right  of  joining  the  queen's  narrow  evening  circle,  and  to 
stand  behind  the  queen's  chair  when  the  royal  pair,  at  times, 
desired  to  sup  without  ceremony. 

This  place  of  chief,  chamberlain  was,  therefore,  a  very  im- 
portant one  ;  for  since  it  confined  him  a  large  part  of  the  day 
in  the  queen's  presence,  it  was  scarcely  avoidable  that  the 
lord  chamberlain  should  become  either  the  confidential  and 
attentive  friend,  or  the  malevolent  and  lurking  enemy  of  the 
queen ! 

But  the  place  of  master  of  horse  was  of  no  less  conse- 
quence. For  as  soon  as  the  queen  left  the  palace,  whether  on 
foot  or  in  a  carriage,  whether  to  ride  in  the  forest  or  to  glide 
down  the  Thames  in  her  gilded  yacht,  the  master  of  horse 
must  be  ever  at  her  side,  must  ever  attend  her.  Indeed,  this 
service  was  still  more  exclusive,  still  more  important.  For, 
though  the  queen's  apartments  were  open  to  the  lord  chamber- 
lain, yet,  however,  he  was  never  alone  with  her.  The  attend- 
ing maids  of  honor  were  always  present  and  prevented  there 
being  any  tetes-d-tetes  or  intimacy  between  the  queen  and  her 
chamberlain. 

But  with  the  master  of  horse  it  was  different ; — since 
many  opportunities  presented  themselves,  when  he  could  ap- 
proach the  queen  unnoticed,  or  at  least  speak  to  her  without 
being  overheard.  He  had  to  offer  her  his  hand  to  assist  her 
in  entering  her  carriage  ;  he  could  ride  near  the  door  of  her 
coach  ;  he  accompanied  her  on  water  excursions  and  pleasure 
rides,  and  these  last  were  so  much  the  more  important  be- 
cause they  afforded  him,  to  a  certain  extent,  opportunity  for 
a  tete-a-tete  with  the  queen.  For  only  the  master  of  horse 
was  permitted  to  ride  at  her  side  ;  he  even  had  precedence  of 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  91 

the  ladies  of  the  suite,  so  as  to  be  able  to  give  the  queen  im- 
mediate assistance  in  case  of  any  accident,  or  the  stumbling  of 
her  horse.  Therefore,  no  one  of  the  suite  could  perceive 
what  the  queen  said  to  the  master  of  horse  when  he  rode  at 
her  side. 

It  was  understood,  therefore,  how  influential  this  place 
might  be.  Besides,  when  the  queen  was  at  Whitehall,  the 
king  was  almost  always  near  her ;  while,  thanks  to  his  daily 
increasing  corpulency,  he  was  not  exactly  in  a  condition  to 
leave  the  palace  otherwise  than  in  a  carriage. 

It  was  therefore  very  natural  that  the  whole  company  at 
court  awaited  with  eager  attention  and  bated  breath  tbe  mo- 
ment when  the  master  of  ceremonies  would  name  these  two 
important  personages,  whose  names  had  been-  kept  so  secret 
that  nobody  had  yet  learned  them.  That  morning,  just  before 
he  handed  the  list  to  the  master  of  ceremonies,  the  king  had 
written  down  these  two  names  with  his  own  hand. 

Not  the  court  only,  but  also  the  king  himself,  was  watch- 
ing for  these  two  names.  For  he  wished  to  see  the  effect  of 
them,  and,  by  the  different  expression  of  faces,  estimate  the 
number  of  the  friends  of  these  two  nominees.  The  young  queen 
alone  exhibited  the  same  unconcerned  affability ;  her  heart 
only  beat  with  uniform  calmness,  for  she  did  not  once  suspect 
the  importance  of  the  moment. 

Even  the  voice  of  the  master  of  ceremonies  trembled 
slightly,  as  he  now  read,  "To  the  place  of  high  chamber- 
lain to  the  queen,  his  majesty  appoints  my  Lord  Henry 
Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey." 

An  approving  murmur  was  heard,  and  almost  all  faces 
manifested  glad  surprise. 

"  He  has  a  great  many  friends,"  muttered  the  king.  "He 
is  dangerous,  then  1  "  An  angry  look  darted  from  his  eyes 
upon  the  young  earl,  who  was  now  approaching  tbe  queen, 
to  bend  his  knee  before  her  and  to  press  to  his  lips  the  prof- 
fered band. 

Behind  the  queen  stood  Lady  Jane,  and  as  she  beheld  thus 


92  HENUT  VIH.    AND   HIS   COIIET. 

close  before  her  the  young  man,  so  handsome,  so  long  yearned 
for,  and  so  secretly  adored ;  and  as  she  thought  of  her  oath,  she 
felt  a  violent  pang,  raging  jealousy,  killing  hatred  toward  the 
young  queen,  who  had,  it  is  true,  without  suspecting  it,  robbed 
her  of  the  loved  one,  and  condemned  her  to  the  terrible  torture 
of  pandering  to  her. 

The  chief  master  of  ceremonies  now  read  in  a  loud  solemn 
voice,  "  To  the  place  of  master  of  horse,  his  majesty  appoints 
my  Lord  Thomas  Seymour,  Earl  of  Sudley." 

It  was  very  well  that  the  king  had  at  that  moment  directed 
his  whole  attention  to  his  courtiers,  and  sought  to  read  in 
their  appearance  the  impression  «made  by  this  nomination. 

Had  he  observed  his  consort,  he  would  have  seen  that  an 
expression  of  delighted  surprise  flitted  across  Catharine's  coun- 
tenance, and  a  charming  smile  played  around  her  lips. 

But  the  king,  as  we  have  said,  thought  only  of  his  court ;  he 
saw  only  that  the  number  of  those  who  rejoiced  at  Seymour's 
appointment  did  not  come  up  to  that  of  those  who  received 
Surrey's  nomination  with  so  much  applause. 

Henry  frowned  and  muttered  to  himself,  "  These  Howards 
are  too  powerful.  I  will  keep  a  watchful  eye  upon  them." 

Thomas  Seymour  approached  the  queen,  and,  bending  his 
knee  before  her,  kissed  her  hand.  Catharine  received  him 
with  a  gracious  smile.  "  My  lord,"  said  she,  "  you  will  at  once 
enter  on  service  with  me,  and  indeed,  as  I  hope,  in  such 
manner  as  will  be  acceptable  to  the  whole  court.  My  lord, 
take  the  fleetest  of  your  coursers,  and  hasten  to  Castle  Holt, 
where  the  Princess  Elizabeth  is  staying.  Carry  her  this  letter 
from  her  royal  father,  and  she  will  follow  you  hither.  Tell 
her  that  I  long  to  embrace  in  her  a  friend  and  sister,  and 
that  I  pray  her  to  pardon  me  if  I  cannot  give  up  to  her  exclu- 
sively the  heart  of  her  king  and  father,  but  that  I  also  must 
still  keep  a  place  in  the  same  for  myself.  Hasten  to  Castle 
Holt,  my  lord,  and  bring  us  Princess  Elizabeth." 


HENET   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUET.  93 

CHAPTER    X. 

THE    KING'S    FOOL. 

Two  years  had  passed  away  since  the  king's  marriage,  and 
still  Catharine  Parr  had  always  kept  in  favor  with  her  hus- 
band ;  still  her  enemies  were  foiled  in  their  attempts  to  ruin 
her,  and  raise  the  seventh  queen  to  the  throne. 

Catharine  had  been  ever  cautious,  ever  discreet.  She  had 
always  preserved  a  cold  heart  and  a  cool  head.  Each  morn- 
ing she  had  said  to  herself  that  this  day  might  be  her  last ; 
that  some  incautious  word/some  inconsiderate  act,  might  de- 
prive her  of  her  crown  and  her  life.  For  Henry's  savage  and 
cruel  disposition  seemed,  like  his  corpulency,  to  increase  daily, 
and  it  needed  only  a  trifle  to  inflame  him  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
rage — rage  which,  each  time,  fell  with  fatal  stroke  on  him 
who  aroused  it. 

A  knowledge  and  consciousness  of  this  had  made  the 
queen  cautious.  She  did  not  wish  to  die  yet.  She  still  loved 
life  so  much.  She  loved  it  because  it  had  as  yet  afforded  her 
so  little  delight.  She  loved  it  because  she  had  so  much  happi- 
ness, so  much  rapture  and  enjoyment  yet  to  hope  from  it. 
She  did  not  wish  to  die  yet,  for  she  was  ever  waiting  for 
that  life  of  which  she  had  a  foretaste  only  in  her  dreams,  and 
which  her  palpitating  and  swelling  heart  told  her  was  ready 
to  awake  in  her,  and,  with  its  sunny,  brilliant  eyes,  arouse  her 
from  the  winter  sleep  of  her  existence. 

It  was  a  bright  and  beautiful  spring  day.  Catharine  wanted 
to  avail  herself  of  it,  to  take  a  ride  and  forget  for  one  brief 
hour  that  she  was  a  queen.  She  wanted  to  enjoy  the  woods, 
the  sweet  May  breeze,  the  song  of  birds,  the  green  meadows, 
and  to  inhalo  in  full  draughts  the  pure  air. 

She  wanted  (o  ride.  Nobody  suspected  how  much  secret 
delight  and  hidden  rapture  lay  iii  these  words.  No  one  sus- 
pected that  for  months  she  had  been  looking  forward  with 
pleasure  to  this  ride,  and  scarcely  dared  to  wish  for  it,  just  be- 
cause it  would  be  the  fulfilment  of  her  ardent  wishes. 


TIENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

She  was  already  dressed  in  her  riding-habit,  and  the  little 
red  velvet  hat,  with  its  long,  drooping  white  feather,  adorned 
her  beautiful  head.  Walking  up  and  down  the  room,  she  was 
waiting  only  for  the  return  of  the  lord  chamberlain,  whom  she 
had  sent  to  the  king  to  inquire  whether  he  wished  to  speak 
with  her  before  her  ride. 

Suddenly  the  door  opened,  and  a  strange  apparition  showed 
itself  on  the  threshold.  It  was  a  small,  compact  masculine 
figure,  clad  in  vesture  of  crimson  silk,  which  was  trimmed  in 
a  style  showy  and  motley  enough,  with  puffs  and  bows  of  all 
colors,  and  which,  just  on  account  of  its  motley  appearance, 
contrasted  strangely  enough  with  the  man's  white  hair,  and 
earnest  and  sombre  face. 

"  Ah,  the  king's  fool,"  said  Catharine,  Avith  a  merry  laugh. 
"  Well,  John,  what  is  it  that  brings  you  here?  Do  you  bring 
me  a  message  from  the  king,  or  have  you  made  a  bold  hit,  and 
wish  me  to  take  you  again  under  my  protection?" 

•  •"  No,  queen,"  •  said  John  Heywood,  seriously,  "  I  have 
made  no  bold  hit,  nor  do  I  bring  a  message  from  the  king.  I 
bring  you  nothing  but  myself.  Ah,  queen,  I  see  you  want  to 
laugh,  but  I  pray  you  forget  for  a  moment  that  John  Hey- 
wood is  the  king's  fool,  and  that  it  does  not  become  him  to 
wear  a  serious  face  and  indulge  sad  thoughts  like  other  men." 

"  Oh,  I  know  that  you  are  not  merely  the  king's  fool,  but 
a  poet  also,"  said  Catharine,  with  a  gracious  smile. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "I  am  a»  poet,  and  therefore  it  is  altogether 
proper  for  me  to  wear  this  fool's  cap,  for  poets  are  all  fools,  and 
it  were  better  for  them  to  be  hung  on  the  nearest  tree  instead 
of  being  permitted  to  run  about  in  their  crazy  enthusiasm,  and 
babble  things  on  account  of  which  people  of  sense  despise  and 
ridicule  them.  I  am  a  poet,  and  therefore,  queen,  I  have  put 
on  this  fool's  dress,  which  places  me  under  the  king's  protec- 
tion, and  allows  me  to  say  to  him  all  sorts  of  things  which 
nobody  else  has  the  courage  to  speak  out.  But  to-day,  queen, 
I  come  to  you  neither  as  a  fool  nor  as  a  poet,  but  I  come  to 
you  because  I  wish  to  cling  to  your  knees  and  kiss  your  feet. 


HEKBT   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.     .  95 

I  come  because  I  wish  to  tell  you  that  you  have  made  John 
Heyvvood  forever  your  slave.  He  will  from  this  time  forth  lie 
like  a  dog  before  your  threshold  and  guard  you  from  every 
enemy  and  every  evil  which  may  press  upon  you.  Night  and 
day  he  will  be  ready  for  your  service,  and  know  neither  repose 
nor  rest,  if  it  is  necessary  to  fulfil  your  command  or  your  wish." 

A$  he  thus  spoke,  with  trembling  voice  and  eyes  dimmed 
with  tears,  he  knelt  down  and  bowed  his  head  at  Catharine's 
feet. 

"  But  what  have  I  done  to  inspire  you  with  such  a  feeling 
of  thankfulness  ?  "  asked  Catharine  with  astonishment.  "  How 
have  I  deserved  that  you,  the  powerful  and  universally  dreaded 
favorite  of  the  king,  should  dedicate  yourself  to  my  service  ?  " 

"  What  have  you  done?  "  said  he.  "  My  lady,  you  have 
saved  my  son  from  the  stake  !  They  had  condemned  him — 
that  handsome  noble  youth — condemned  him,  because  he  had 
spoken  respectfully  of  Thomas  More  ;  because  he  said  this  great 
and  noble  man  did  right  to  die,  rather  than  be  false  to  his  con- 
victions. Ah,  nowadays,  it  requires  such  a  trifle  to  condemn 
a  man  to  death  !  a  couple  of  thoughtless  words  are  sufficient ! 
And  this  miserable,  lick-spittle  Parliament,  in  its  dastardliness 
and  worthlessness,  always  condemns  and  sentences,  because  it 
knows  that  the  king  is  always  thirsty  for  blood,  and  always 
wants  the  fires  of  the  stake  to  keep  him  warm.  So  they  had 
condemned  my  son  likewise,  and  they  would  have  executed 
him,  but  for  you.  But  you,  whom  God  has  sent  as  an  angel 
of  reconciliation  on  this  regal  thi-one  reeking  with  blood  ;  you 
who  daily  risk  your  life  and  your  crown  to  save  the  life  of 
some  one  of  those  unfortunates  whom  fanaticism  and  thirst 
for  blood  have  sentenced,  and  to  procure  their  pardon,  you 
have  saved  my  eon  also." 

"  How  !  that  young  man  who  was  to  be  burned  yesterday, 
was  your  son  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  was  my  son." 

"  And  you  did  not  tell  the  king  so  ?  and  you  did  not  inter- 
cede for  him  ?  " 


96  HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

"  Had  I  done  sb,  he  would  have  been  irretrievably  lost ! 
For  you  well  know  the  king  is  so  proud  of  his  impartiality 
and  his  virtue  !  Oh,  had  he  known  that  Thomas  is  my  son  he 
would  have  condemned  him  to  death,  to  show  the  people  that 
Henry  the  Eighth  everywhere  strikes  the  guilty  and  punishes 
the  sinner,  whatever  name  he  may  bear,  and  whoever  may  in- 
tercede for  him.  Ah,  even  your  supplication  would  not  have 
softened  him,  for  the  high-priest  of  the  English  Church  could 
never  have  pardoned  this  young  man  for  not  being  the  legiti- 
mate son  of  his  father,  for  not  having  the  right  to  bear  his 
name,  because  his  mother  was  the  spouse  of  another  man 
whom  Thomas  must  call  father." 

"  Poor  Hey  wood !  Yes,  now  I  understand.  The  king 
would,  indeed,  never  have  forgiven  this ;  and  had  he  known 
it,  your  son  would  have  inevitably  been  condemned  to  the 
stake." 

"  You  saved  him,  queen !  Do  you  not  believe  now  that  I 
shall  be  forever  thankful  to  you  ?  " 

"I  do  believe  it,"  said  the  queen,  with  a  pleasant  smile,  as 
she  extended  her  hand  for  him  to  kiss.  "  I  believe  you,  and  I 
accept  your  service." 

"  And  you  will  need  it,  queen,  for  a  tempest  is  gathering 
over  your  head,  and  soon  the  lightning  will  flash  and  the 
thunders  roll." 

"  Oh,  I  fear  not !  I  have  strong  nerves  !  "  said  Catharine, 
smiling.  "  When  a  storm  comes,  it  is  but  a  refreshing  of  na- 
ture, and  I  have  always  seen  that  after  a  storm  the  sun  shines 
again." 

"  You  are  a  brave  soul ! "  said  John  Hey  wood,  sadly. 

"  That  is,  I  am  conscious  of  no  guilt ! " 

"  But  your  enemies  will  invent  a  crime  to  charge  you  with. 
Ah,  as  soon  as  it  is  the  aim  to  calumniate  a  neighbor  and 
plunge  him  in  misery,  men  are  all  poets  3  " 

"But  you  just  now  said  that  poets  are  crack-brained,  and 
should  be  hung  to  the  first  tree.  "We  will,  therefore,  treat 
these  slanderers  as  poets,  that  is  all." 


HESTRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET.  97 

"  No,  that  is  not  all !  "  said  John  Heywood,  energetically. 
"For  slanderers  are  like  earth-worms.  Yon  cut  them  in 
pieces,  but  instead  of  thereby  killing  them,  you  multiply  each 
one  and  give  it  several  heads." 

"  But  what  is  it,  then,  that  I  am  accused  of  ?  "  exclaimed 
Catharine,  impatiently.  "  Does  not  my  life  lie  open  and  clear 
before  you  all  ?  Do  I  ever  take  pains  to  have  any  secrets  ?  Is 
not  my  heart  like  a  glass  house,  into  which  you  can  all  look,  to 
convince  yourselves  that  it  is  a  soil  wholly  unfruitful,  and  that 
not  a  single  poor  little  flower  grows  there  ? 

"  Though  this  be  so,  your  enemies  will  sow  weeds  and  make 
the  king  believe  that  it  is  burning  love  which  has  grown  up  in 
your  heart." 

"  How  !  They  will  accuse  me  of  "having  a  love-affair  ?  " 
asked  Catharine,  and  her  lips  slightly  trembled. 

"  I  do  not  know  their  plans  yet ;  but  I  will  find  them  out. 
There  is  a  conspiracy  at  work.  Therefore,  queen,  be  on  your 
guard  !  Trust  nobody,  for  foes  are  ever  wont  to  conceal  them- 
selves under  hypocritical  faces  and  deceiving  words." 

"  If  you  know  my  enemies,  name  them  to  me  ! "  said  Cath- 
arine, impatiently.  "  Name  them  to  me,  that  I  may  beware  of 
them." 

"  I  have  not  come  to  accuse  anybody,  but  to  warn  you.  I 
shall,  therefore,  take  good  care  not  to  point  out  your  enemies  to 
you  ;  but  I  will  name  your  friends  to  you. 

"Ah,  then,  I  have  friends,  too!"  whispered  Catharine, 
with  a  happy  smile. 

"  Yes,  you  have  friends ;  and,  indeed,  such  as  are  ready  to 
give  their  blood  and  life  for  you." 

"  Oh,  name  them,  name  them  to  me  !  "  exclaimed  Catha- 
rine, all  of  a  tremble  with  joyful  expectation. 

44 1  name  first,  Cranmer,  archbishop  of  Canterbury.  He  ia 
your  true  arid  stanch  friend,  on  whom  you  can  build.  He 
loves  you  as  queen,  and  he.  prizes  you  a.s  the  associate  whom 
( in-!  Li>  sent  him  to  bring  to  completion,  here  at  the  court  of 
this  most  Christian  and  bloody  king,  the  holy  work  of  the  lief- 
5 


98  HENEY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

formation,  and  to  cause  the  light  of  knowledge  to  illuminate 
this  night  of  superstition  and  priestly  domination.  Build 
strongly  on  Cranmer,  for  he  is. your  surest  and  most  invariable 
supporter,  and  should  he  sink,  your  fall  would  inevitably  fol- 
low. Therefore,  not  only  rely  on  him,  but  also  protect  him, 
and  look  upon  him  as  your  brother ;  for  what  you  do  for  him, 
you  do  for  yourself." 

"Yes,  you  are  right,"  said  Catharine,  thoughtfully. 
"  Cranmer  is  a  noble  and  stanch  friend ;  and  often  enough 
already  he  has  protected  me,  in  the  king's  presence,  against 
those  little  pin-prickings  of  my  enemies,  which  do  not  indeed  kill, 
but  which  make  the  whole  body  sore  and  faint." 

"  Protect  him,  and  thus  protect  yourself." 

"  Well,  and  the  other  friends? " 

"  I  have  given  Cranmer  the  precedence  ;  but  now,  queen, 
I  name  myself  as  the  second  of  your  friends.  If  Cranmer  is 
your  staff,  I  will  be  your  dog ;  and,  believe  me,  so  long  as  you 
have  such  a  staff  and  so  faithful  a  dog,  you  are  safe.  Cran- 
mer will  warn  you  of  every  stone  that  lies  in  your  way,  and  I 
will  bite  and  drive  off  the  enemies,  who,  hidden  behind  the 
thicket,  lurk  in  the  way  to  fall  upon  you  from  behind." 

"  I  thank  you  !  Really,  I  thank  you  ! "  said  Catharine, 
heartily.  "'Well,  and  what  more?" 

"More  ?  "  inquired  Hey  wood  with  a  sad  smile. 

"  Mention  a  few  more  of  my  friends." 

"  Queen,  it  is  ti  great  deal,  if  one  in  a  lifetime  has  found 
two  friends  upon  whom  he  can  rely,  and  whose  fidelity  is  not 
guided  by  selfishness.  You  are  perhaps  the  only  crowned  head 
that  can  boast  of  such  friends." 

"  I  am  a  woman,"  said  Catharine,  thoughtfully,  "  and  many 
women  surround  me  and  daily  swear  to  me  unchanging  faithful- 
ness and  attachment.  How  !  are  all  these  unworthy  the  title  of 
friends  ?  Is  even  Lady  Jane  Douglas  unworthy  ;  she,  whom  I 
have  called  my  friend  these  many  long  years,  and  whom  I  trust 
as  a  sister?  Tell  me,  John  Hey  wood,  you  who,  as  it  is  said, 
know  every  thing,  and  search  out  every  thing  that  takes  place  at 
court,  tell  me,  is  not  Lady  Jane  Douglas  my  friend  ?  " 


HENRY  Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  99 

John  Heywood  suddenly  became  serious  and  gloomy,  and 
looked  on  the  ground,  absorbed  in  reflection.  Then  he  swept 
his  large,  bright  eyes  all  around  the  room,  in  a  scrutinizing 
manner,  as  if  he  "wished  to  convince  himself  that  no  listener 
was  really  concealed  there,  and  stepping  close  up  to  the  queen, 
he  whispered  :  "  Trust  her  not ;  she  is  a  papist,  and  Gardiner 
is  her  friend." 

"  Ah,  I  suspected  it,"  whispered  Catharine,  sadly. 

"  But  listen,  queen  ;  give  no  expression  to  this  suspicion 
by  look,  or  words,  or  by  the  slighest  indication.  Lull  this 
viper  into  the  belief  that  you  are  harmless  ;  lull  her  to  sleep, 
queen.  She  is  a  venomous  and  dangerous  serpent,  which 
must  not  be  roused,  lest,  before  you  suspect  it,  it  bite  you  on 
the  heel.  Be  always  gracious,  always  confidential,  always 
friendly  toward  her.  Only,  queen,  do  not  tell  her  what  you 
would  not  confide  to  Gardiner  and  Earl  Douglas  likewise.  Oh, 
believe  me,  she  is  like  the  lion  in  the  doge's  palace  at  Venice. 
The  secrets  that  you  confide  to  her  will  become  accusations 
against  you  before  the  tribunal  of  blood." 

Catharine  shook  her  head  with  a  smile.  "  You  are  too  se- 
vere, John  Heywood.  It  is  possible  that  the  religion  which 
she  secretly  professes  has  estranged  her  heart  from  me,  but 
she  would  never  be  capable  of  betraying  me,  or  of  leaguing 
herself  with  my  foes.  No  John,  you  are  mistaken.  It  would 
be  a  crime  to  believe  thus.  My  God,  what  a  wicked  and 
wretched  world  it  must  be.  in  which  we  could  not  trust  even 
our  most  faithful  and  dearest  friends  !  " 

"  The  world  is  indeed  wicked  and  wretched,  and  one  must 
despair  of  it,  or  consider  it  a  merry  jest,  with  which  the  devil 
tickles  our  noses.  For  me,  it  is  such  a  jest,  and  therefore, 
queen,  I  have  become  the  king's  fool,  which  at  least  gives  me 
the  right  of  spurting  out  upon  the  crawling  brood  all  the 
venom  of  the  contempt  I  feel  for  mankind,  and  of  speaking  the 
truth  to  those  who  have  only  lies,  by  dripping  honey,  ever  on 
their  lips.  The  sages  and  poets  are  the  real  fools  of  our  day, 
and  since  I  did  not  feel  a  vocation  to  be  a  king,  or  a  priest,  a 
hangman,  or  a  lamb  for  sacrifice,  I  became  a  fool." 


100  HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

"  Yes,  a  fool,  that  is  to  say,  an  epigrammatist,  whose 
biting  tongue  makes  the  whole  court  tremble." 

"  Since  I  cannot,  like  my  royal  master,  have  these  criminals 
executed,  I  give  them  a  few  sword-cuts  with  iny  tongue.  Ah, 
I  tell  you,  you  will  much  need  this  ally.  Be  on  your  guard, 
queen :  I  heard  this  morning  the  first  growl  of  the  thunder, 
and  in  Lady  Jane's  eyes  I  observed  the  stealthy  lightning. 
Trust  her  not.  Trust  no  one  here  but  your  friends  Cranmer 
and  John  Heywood." 

"  And  you  say,  that  in  all  this  court,  among  all  these  bril- 
liant women,  these  brave  cavaliers,  the  poor  queen  has  not  a 
single  friend,  not  a  soul,  whom  she  may  trust,  on  whom  she 
may  lean?  Oh,  John  Heywood,  think  again,  have  pity  on  the 
poverty  of  a  queen.  Think  again.  Say,  only  you  two  ?  No 
friend  but  you  ?  " 

And  the  queen's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  which  she  tried  in 
vain  to  repress. 

John  Heywood  saw  it  and  sighed  deeply.  Better  than  the 
queen  herself  perhaps,  he  had  read  the  depths  of  her  heart,  and 
knew  its  deep  wound;  But  he  also  had  sympathy  with  her 
pain,  and  wished  to  mitigate  it  a  little. 

"  I  recollect,"  said  he,  gently  and  mournfully — "  yes,  I  recol- 
lect, you  have  yet  a  third  friend  at  this  court." 

"  Ah,  a  third  friend !  "  exclaimed  Catharine,  and  again  her 
voice  sounded  cheery  and  joyous.  "  Name  him  to  me,  name 
him  !  For  you  see  clearly  I  am  burning  with  impatience  to 
hear  his  name." 

John  Heywood  looked  into  Catharine's  glowing  counte- 
nance with  a  strange  expression,  at  once  searching  and  mourn- 
ful, and  for  a  moment  dropped  his  head  upon  his  breast  and 
sighed. 

"  Now,  John,  give  me  the  name  of  this  third  friend." 

"  Do  you  not  know  him,  queen?"  asked  Heywood,  as  he 
again  stared  steadily  in  her  face.  Do  you  not  know  him  ?  It 
is  Thomas  Seymour,  Earl  of  Sudley." 

There  passed  as  it  were  a  sunbeam  over  Catharine's  face, 
and  she  uttered  a  low  cry. 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS    COURT.  101 

John  Heywood  said,  sadly :  "  Queen,  the  sun  strikes 
directly  in  your  face.  Take  care  that  it  does  not  blind  your 
bright  eyes.  Stand  in  the  shade,  your  majesty,  for,  hark ! 
there  comes  one  who  might  report  the  sunshine  in  your  face 
for  a  conflagration." 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Lady  Jane  appeared  on  the 
threshold.  She  threw  a  quick,  searching  glance  around  the 
room,  and  an  imperceptible  smile  passed  over  her  beautiful 
pale  face. 

"  Your  majesty,"  said  she  solemnly,  "  every  thing  is  ready. 
You  can  begin  your  ride  when  it  pleases  you.  The  Princess 
Elizabeth  awaits  you  in  the  anteroom,  and  your  master  of 
horse  already  holds  the  stirrup  of  your  steed." 

*'  And  the  lord  chamberlain?"  asked  Catharine,  blushing, 
"  has  he  no  message  from  the  king  to  bring  me?  " 

"  Ay  ! "  said  the  Earl  of  Surrey  as  he  entered.  "  His  ma- 
jesty bids  me  tell  the  queen  that  she  may  extend  her  ride  as 
far  as  she  wishes.  The  glorious  weather  is  well  worth  that 
the  Queen  of  England  should  enjoy  it,  and  enter  into  a  contest 
with  the  sun." 

"  Oh,  the  king  is  the  most  gallant  of  cavaliers,"  said 
Catharine,  with  *a  happy  smile.  "  Now,  come,  Jane  let  us 
ride." 

"  Pardon  me,  your  majesty,"  said  Lady  Jane,  stepping  back. 
"  I  cannot  to-day  enjoy  the  privilege  of  accompanying  your 
majesty.  Lady  Anne  Ettersville  is  to-day  in  attendance." 

"Another  time,  then,^Jane !  And  you,  Earl  Douglas,  you 
ride  with  us?" 

"  The  king,  your  majesty,  has  ordered  me  to  his  cabinet." 

"  Behold  now  a  queen  abandoned  by  all  her  friends  !  "  said 
Catharine  cheerily,  as  with  light,  elastic  step  she  passed  through 
the  hall  to  the  court-yard. 

"  Here  is  something  going  on  which  I  must  fathom  !  "  mut- 
tered John  Heywood,  who  had  left  the  hall  with  the  rest.  "  A 
mousetrap  is  set,  for  the  cats  remain  at  home,  and  are  hungry 
for  their  prey." 


102  HENET   Vin.    AND   HIS   COTTKT. 

Lady  Jane  had  remained  behind  in  the  hall  with  her  father 
Both  had  stepped  to  the  window,  and  were  silently  looking 
down  into  the  yard,  where  the  brilliant  cavalcade  of  the  queen 
and  her  suite  was  moving  about  in  motley  confusion. 

Catharine  had  just  mounted  her  palfrey  ;  the  noble  animal, 
recognizing  his  mistress,  neighed  loudly,  and,  giving  a  snort, 
reared  up  with  his  noble  burden. 

Princess  Elizabeth,  who  was  close  to  the  queen,  uttered  a 
cry  of  alarm.  "  You  will  fall,  queen,"  said  she,  "  you  ride 
such  a  wild  animal." 

"  Oh,  no  indeed,"  said  Catharine,  smiling ;  "  Hector  is  not 
wild.  It  is  with  him  as  with  me.  This  charming  May  air 
has  made  us  both  mettlesome  and  happy.  Away,  then,  my 
ladies  and  lords !  our  horses  must  be  to-day  swift  as  birds. 
"We  ride  to  Epping  Forest." 

And  through  the  open  gateway  dashed  the  cavalcade. 
The  queen  in  front ;  at  her  right,  the  Princess  Elizabeth ;  at 
her  left,  the  master  of  horse,  Thomas  Seymour,  Earl  of  Sud- 
ley. 

"When  the  train  had  disappeared,  father  and  daughter 
stepped  back  from  the  window,  and  looked  at'each  other  with 
strange,  dark,  and  disdainful  looks. 

"  "Well,  Jane?"  said  Earl  Douglas,  at  length.  "  She  is 
still  queen,  and  the  king  becomes  daily  more  unwieldly  and 
ailing.  It  is  time  to  give  him  a  seventh  queen." 

"  Soon,  my  father,  soon." 

"  Loves  the  queen  Henry  Howar^ at  last?" 

"  Yes,  he  loves  her  !  "  said  Jane,  and  her  pale  face  was  now 
colorless  as  a  winding-sheet. 

"•  I  ask,  whether  she  loves  him  ?  " 

"  She,will  love  him  !  "  murmured  Jane,  and  then  suddenly 
mastering  herself,  she  continued :  "  but  it  is  not  enough  to 
make  the  queen  in  love  ;  doubtless  it  would  be  still  more  effi- 
cient if  some  one  could  instill  a  new  love  into  the  king.  Did 
.  you  see,  father,  with  what  ardent  looks  his  majesty  yesterday 
watched  me  and  the  Duchess  of  Richmond  ?  " 


HENRY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT.  103 

"  Did  I  see  it  ?     The  whole  court  talked  about  it." 

"Well,  now,  my  father,  manage  it  so  that  the  king  may 
be  heartily  bored  to-day,  and  then  bring  him  to  me.  He  will 
find  the  Duchess  of  Richmond  with  me." 

"  Ah,  a  glorious  thought !  You  will  surely  be  Henry's 
seventh  queen." 

"  I  will  ruin  Catharine  Parr,  for  she  is  my  rival,  and  I 
hate  her  !  "  said  Jane,  with  glowing  cheeks  and  flashing  eyes. 
"She  has  been  queen  long  enough,  and  I  have  bowed  myself 
before  her.  Now  she  shall  fall  in  the  dust  before  me,  and  I 
will  set  my  foot  upon  her  head." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE   RIDE. 

IT  was  a  wondrous  morning.  The  dew  still  lay  on  the 
grass  of  the  meadows,  over  which  they  had  just  ridden  to 
reach  the  thicket  of  the  forest,  in  whose  trees  resounded  the 
melodious  voiceg  of  blithe  birds.  Then  they  rode  along  the 
banks  of  a  babbling  forest  stream,  and  spied  the  deer  that 
came  forth  into  the  glade  on  the  other  side,  as  if  they  wanted, 
like  the  queen  and  her  train,  to  listen  to  the  song  of  the  birds 
and  the  murmuring  of  the  fountains. 

Catharine  felt  a  nameless,  blissful  pleasure  swell  her  bosom. 
She  was  to-day  no  more  the  queen,  surrounded  by  perils  and 
foes ;  no  more  the  wife  *f  an  unloved,  tyrannical  husband ; 
not  the  queen  trammelled  with  the  shackles  of  etiquette.  She 
•was  a  free,  happy  woman,  who,  in  presageful,  blissful  trepi- 
dation, smiled  at  the  future,  and  said  to  each  minute,  "  Stay, 
stay,  for  thou  art  so  beautiful ! " 

It  was  a  sweet,  dreamy  happiness,  the  happiness  of  that 
hour.  With  glad  heart,  Catharine  would  have  given  her 
crown  for  it,  could  she  have  prolonged  this  hour  to  an  eter- 
nity. 


104:  HENKY   VHI.    AUTO   HIS   COUKT. 

He  was  at  her  side — he  of  whom  John  Hey  wood  had  said, 
that  he  was  among  her  most  trustful  and  trusty  friends.  He 
was  there  ;  and  even  if  she  did  not  dare  to  look  at  him  often, 
often  to. speak  to  him,  yet  she  felt  his  presence,  she  perceived 
the  glowing  beams  of  his  eyes,  which  rested  on  her  with  con- 
suming fire.  Nobody  could  observe  them.  For  the  court 
rode  behind  them,  and  before  them  and  around  them  was 
naught  but  Nature  breathing  and  smiling  with  joy,  naught  but 
heaven  and  God. 

She  had  forgotten  however  that  she  was  not  quite  alone,  and 
that  while  Thomas  Seymour  rode  on  her  left,  on  her  right  was 
Princess  Elizabeth — that  young  girl  of  fourteen  years — that 
child,  who,  however,  under  the  fire  of  suffering  and  the  storms 
of  adversity,  was  early  forced  to  precocious  bloom ,  and  whose 
heart,  by  the  tears  and  experience  of  her  unhappy  childhood, 
had  acquired  an  early  ripeness.  Elizabeth,  a  child  in  years, 
had  already  all  the  'strength  and  warmth  of  a  woman's  feel- 
ings. Elizabeth,  the  disowned  and  disinherited  princess,  had 
inherited  her  father's  pride  and  ambition  ;  and  when  she  looked 
on  the  queen,  and  perceived  that  little  crown  wrought  on  her 
velvet  cap  in  diamond  embroidery,  she  felt  in  her  bosom  a 
sharp  pang,  and  remembered,  with  feelings  of  bitter  grief,  that 
this  crown  was  destined  never  to  adorn  her  head,  since  the 
king,  by  solemn  act  of  Parliament,  had  excluded  her  from  the 
succession  to  the  throne.* 

But  for  a  few  weeks  this  pain  had  been  more  gentle,  and 
less  burning.  Another  feeling  had  silenced  it.  Elizabeth 
who  was  never  to  be  queen  or  sovereign — Elizabeth  might  be 
a  wife  at  least.  Since  she  was  denied  a  crown,  they  should 
at  least  allow  her  instead  a  wife's  happiness  ;  they  should  not 
grudge  her  the  privilege  of  ^twining  in  her  hair  a  crown  of 
myrtle. 

She  had  been  early  taught  to  ever  have  a  clear  conscious- 
ness of  all  her  feelings  ;  nor  had  she  now  shrunk  from  reading 
the  depths  of  her  heart  with  steady  and  sure  eye. 

*  Tytler,  page  340. 


HENET   VIH.    AND   HIS   COUET.  105 

She  knew  that  she  loved,  and  that  Thomas  Seymour  was 
the  man  whom  she  loved.  • 

But  the  earl  ?  Did  he  love  her  in  return  ?  Did  he  under- 
stand the  child's  heart?  Had  he,  beneath  the  childish  face, 
already  recognized  the  passionate,  proud  woman?  Had  he 
guessed  the  secrets  of  this  soul,  at  once  so  maidenly  and  chaste, 
and  yet  so  passionate  and  energetic? 

Thomas  Seymour  never  betrayed  a  secret,  and  what  he 
had,  it  may  be,  read  in  the  eyes  of  the  princess,  and  what  he 
had,  perhaps,  spoken  to  her  in  the  quiet  shady  walks  of  Hamp- 
ton Court,  or  in  the  long,  dark  corridors  of  Whitehall,  was 
known  to  no  one,  save  those  two.  For  Elizabeth  had  a  strong, 
masculine  soul ;  she  needed  no  confidant  to  share  her  secrets  ; 
and  Thomas  Seymour  had  feared  even,  like  the  immortal  hair- 
dresser of  King  Midas,  to  dig  a  hole  and  utter  his  secret  there- 
in ;  for  he  knew  very  well  that,  if  the  reed  grew  up  and  re- 
peated his  words,  he  might,  for  these  words,  lay  his  head  on 
the  block. 

Poor  Elizabeth  !  She  did  not  even  suspect  that  the  earl's 
secret  and  her  own  were  not,  however,  the  same ;  she  did  not 
suspect  that  Thomar  Seymour,  if  he  guessed  her  secret,  might, 
perhaps,  avail  himself  of  it  to  make  thereof  a  brilliant  foil  for 
his  own  secret. 

lie  had,  like  her,  ever  before  his  eyes  the  diamond  crown 
on  the  head  of  the  young  queen,  and  he  had  noticed  well  how 
old  and  feeble  the  king  had  become  of  late. 

As  he  now  rode  by  the  side  of  the  two  princesses,  he  felt 
his  heart  swell  with  a  proud  joy,  and  bold  and  ambitious 
schemes  alone  occupied  his  soul. 

The  two  women  understood  nothing  of  this.  They  were 
both  too  much  occupied  with  their  own  thoughts  ;  and  while 
Catharine's  eyes  swept  with  beaming  look  the  landscape  far 
and  wide,  the  brow  of  the  princess  was  slightly  clouded,  and 
her  sharp  eye  rested  with  a  fixed  and  watchful  gaze  on  Thomas 
Seymour. 

She  had  noticed  the  impassioned  look  which  he  had  now 
5* 


106  HENRY   Vm.    AOT)   HIS   COUKT. 

and  then  fastened  on  the  queen.     The  slight,  scarcely  percep- 
tible tremor  of  his  voice,  when  he  spoke,  had  not  escaped  her. 

Princess  Elizabeth  was  jealous  ;  she  felt  the  first  torturing 
motions  of  that  horrible  disease  which  she  had  inherited  from 
her  father,  and  in  the  feverish  paroxysms  of  which  the  king 
had  sent  two  of  his  wives  to  the  scaffold. 

She  was  jealous,  but  not  of  the  queen;  much  more,  she 
dreamed  not  that  the  queen  might  share  and  return  Seymour's 
love.  It  never  came  into  her  mind  to  accuse  the  queen  of  an 
understanding  with  the  earl.  She  was  jealou^  only  of  the 
looks  which  he  directed  toward  the  queen ;  and  because  she 
was  watching  those  looks,  she  could  not  at  the  same  time  read 
the  eyes  of  her  young  step-mother  also  ;  she  could  not  see  the 
gentle  flames  which,  kindled  by  the  fire  of  his  looks,  glowed  in 
hers. 

Thomas  Seymour  had  seen  them,  and  had  he  now  been 
alone  with  Catharine,  he  would  have  thrown  himself  at  her 
feet  and  confided  to  her  all  the  deep  and  dangerous  secrets  that 
he  had  so  long  harbored  in  his  breast ;  he  would  have  left  to 
her  the  choice  of  bringing  him  to  the  block,  or  of  accepting  the 
love  which  he  consecrated  to  her. 

But  there,  behind  them,  were  the  spying,  all-observing,  all- 
surmising  courtiers ;  there  was  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  who, 
had  he  ventured  to  speak  to  the  queen,  would  have  conjectured 
from  his  manner  the  words  which  she  could  not  understand  ; 
for  love  sees  so  clearly,  and  jealousy  has  such  keen  ears  ! 

Catharine  suspected  nothing  of  the  thoughts  of  her  com- 
panions. She  alone  was  happy ;  she  alone  gave  herself  up 
with  full  soul  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  moment.  She  drew  in 
with  intense  delight  the  pure  air ;  she  drank  in  the  odor  of  the 
meadow  blossoms  ;  she  listened  with  thirsty  ear  to  the  murmur- 
ing song  which  the  wind  wafted  to  her  from  the  boughs  of  the 
trees.  Her  wishes  extended  not  beyond  the  hour  ;  she  rested 
in  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  presence  of  her  beloved.  He  was 
there — what  needed  she  more  to  make  her  happy? 

Her  wishes  extended  not  beyond  this  hour.     She  was  only 


HENBY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT.  107 

conscious  how  delightful  it  was  thus  to  be  at  her  beloved's 
side,  to' breathe  the  same  air,  to  see  the  same  sun,  the  same 
flowers  on  which  his  eyes  rested,  and  on  which  their  glances' 
at  least  might  meet  in  kisses  which  were  denied  to  their  lips. 

But  as  they  thus  rode  along,  sijent  and  meditative,  each 
occupied  with  his  own  thoughts,  there  came  the  assistance  for 
which  Thomas  Seymour  had  prayed,  fluttering  along  in  the 
shape  of  a  fly. 

At  first  this  fly  sported  and  buzzed  about  the  nose  of  l^ie 
fiery,  proud  beast  which  the  queen  rode  ;  and  as  no  one  noticed 
it,  it  was  not  disturbed  by  Hector's  tossing  of  his  mane,  but 
crept  securely  and  quietly  to  the  top  of  the  noble  courser's 
head,  pausing  a  little  here  and  there,  and  sinking  his  sting  into 
the  horse's  flesh,  so  that  he  reared  and  began  loudly  to  neigh. 

But  Catharine  was  a  bold  and  dexterous  rider,  and  the 
croud  spirit  of  her  horse  only  afforded  her  delight,  and  gave 
the  master  of  horse  an  opportunity  to  praise  her  skill  and 
coolness. 

Catharine  received  with  a  sweet  smile  the  encomiums  of 
her  beloved.  But  the  fly  kept  creeping  on,  and,  impelled  by  a 
diabolic  delight,  now  penetrated  the  horse's  ear. 

The  poor,  tormented  animal  made  a  spring  forward.  This 
spring,  instead  of  freeing  him  from  his  enemy,  made  him  pen- 
etrate the  ear  still  farther,  and  sink  his  sting  still  deeper  into 
the  soft  fleshy  part  of  the  same. 

Stung  by  the  maddening  pain,  the  horse  cast  oft  all  con- 
trol, and,  heedless  of  bridle  and  scorning  the  bit,  dashed  for- 
ward in  a  furious  run — forward  over  the  meadow  swift  as  an 
arrow,  resistless  as  the  lightning. 

"  On,  on,  to  the  queen's  rescue !  "  thundered  the  master 
of  horse,  and  with  mad  haste,  away  flew  he  also  over  the 
meadow. 

"  To  the  help  of  the  queen  !  "  repeated  Princess  Elizabeth, 
and  she  likewise  spurred  her  horso  and  hurried  forward,  .ac- 
companied by  the  whole  suite. 

But  what  is  the  speed  of  a  horse  ever  so  swift,  but  yet  in 


108  HENRY    Vin.    AJ5TD   HIS   COTJKT. 

his  senses,  compared  with,  the  raving  madness  of  a  crazy 
courser,  that,  despising  all  subjection,  and  mocking  at  the  bri- 
dle, dashes  ahead,  foaming  with  the  sense  of  freedom  and 
unrestraint,  uncontrollable  as  the  surge  lashed  by  the  storm  I 

Already  far  behind  them  lay  the  meadows,  far  behind  them 
the  avenues  leading  through  the  woods,  and  over  brooks  and 
ditches,  over  meadows  and  wastes,  Hector  was  dashing  on. 

The  queen  still  sat  firmly  in  the  saddle  ;  her  "cheeks  were 
cofcrless  ;  her  lips  trembled  ;  but  her  eye  was  still  bright  and 
clear.  She  had  not  yet  lost  her  presence  of  mind  ;  she  was 
perfectly  conscious  of  her  danger.  The  din  of  screaming, 
screeching  voices,  which  she  heard  at  first,  had  long  since 
died  away  in  silence  behind  her.  An  immense  solitude,  the 
deep  silence  of  the  grave,  was  around  her.  Naught  was  heard 
save  the  panting  and  snorting  of  the  horse ;  naught  but  the 
crash  and  clatter  of  his  hoofs. 

Suddenly,  however,  this  sound  seemed  to  find  an  echo.  It 
was  repeated  over  yonder.  There  was  the  same  snorting  and 
panting ;  there  was  the  same  resounding  trampling  of  hoofs. 

And  now,  oh  now,  struck  on  Catharine's  ear  the  sound  of 
a  voice  only  too  well  loved,  and  made  her  scream  aloud  with 
delight  and  desire. 

But  this  cry  frightened  anew  the  enraged  animal.  For  a 
moment,  exhausted  and  panting,  he  had  slackened  in  his  mad 
race ;  now  he  sprang  forward  with  renewed  energy ;  now  he 
flew  on  as  if  impelled  by  the  wings  of  the  wind. 

But  ever  nearer  and  nearer  sounded  the  loved  voice,  ever 
nearer  the  tramp  of  his  horse. 

They  were  now  upon  a  large  plain,  shut  in  on  all  sides  by 
woods.  While  the  queen's  horse  circled  the  plain  in  a  wi'le 
circuit,  Seymour's,  obedient  to  the  rein,  sped  directly  across 
it,  and  was  close  behind  the  queen. 

"  Only  a  moment  more  !  Only  hold  your  arms  firmly 
around  the  animal's  neck,  that  the  shock  may  not  hurl  you  off 
when  I  lay  hold  of  the  rein !  "  shouted  Seymour,  and  he  set 
his  spurs  into  his  horse's  flanks,-  so  that  he  sprang  forward 
with  a  wild  cry. 


HENEY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COTTKT.  109 

This  cry  roused  Hector  to  new  fury.  Panting  for  breath, 
he  shot  forward  with  fearful  leaps,  now  straight  into  the 
thicket  of  the  woods.  •  • 

"  I  hear,  his  voice  no  more,"  murmured  Catharine.  And  at 
length  overcome  with  anxiety  and  the  dizzy  race,  and  worn 
out  with  her  exertions,  she  closed  her  eyes ;  her  senses  ap- 
peared to  be  about  leaving  her. 

But  at  this  moment,  a  firm  hand  seized  with  iron  grasp  the 
rein  of  her  horse,_so  that  he  bowed  his  head,  shaking,  trem- 
bling, and  almost  ashamed,  as  though  he  felt  he  had  found  his 
lord  and  master. 

"  Saved  !  I  am  saved  !  "  faltered  Catharine,  and  breath- 
less, scarcely  in  her  senses,  she  leaned  her  head  on  Seymour's 
shoulder. 

He  lifted  her  gently,  from  the  saddle,  and  placed  her  on  the 
soft  moss  beneath  an  ancient  oak.  Then  he  tied  the  horses  to 
a  bough,  and  Catharine,  trembling  and  faint,  sank  on  her  knees 
to  rest  after  such  violent  exertion. 


CHAPTER    XH. 

THE  DECLARATION. 

THOMAS  SEYMOUR  returned  to  Catharine.  She  still  lay 
there  with  closed  eyes,  pale  and  motionless. 

He  gazed  on  her  long  and  steadily ;  his  eyes  drank  in,  in 
long  draughts,  the  sight  of  this  beautiful  and  noble  woman, 
and  he  forgot  at  that  moment  that  she  was  a  queen. 

lie  was  at  length  alone  with  her.  At  last,  after  two  years 
of  torture,  of  resignation,  of  dissimulation,  God  had  granted 
him  this  hour,  for  which  he  had  so  long  yearned,  which  he 
had  PO  long  considered  unattainable.  Now  it  was  there,  now 
it  was  his. 

And  had  the -whole  court,  had  King  Henry  himself,  come 
right  then,  Thomas  Seymour  would  not  have  heeded  it ;  it 


110  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS    COURT. 

would  not  have  affrighted  him.  The  blood  had  mounted  to 
his  head  and  overcome  his  reason.  His  heart,  still  agitated 
and  beating  violently  from  his  furious  ride  and  his  anxiety  for 
Catharine,  allowed  him  to  hear  no  other  voice  than  that  of 
passion. 

He  knelt  by  the  queen  and  seized  her  hand. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  touch  which  roused  her  from  her 
unconsciousness.  She  raised  her  eyes  and  gazed  around  with 
a  perplexed  look. 

"  Where  am  I?  "  breathed  she  in  alow  tone. 

Thomas  Seymour  pressed  her  hand  to  his  lips.  "  You  are 
with  the  most  faithful  and  devoted  of  your  servants,  queen !  " 

"  Queen  ! "  This  word  roused  her  from  her  stupor,  and 
caused  her  to  raise  herself  hah0  up. 

"  But  where  is  my  court?  Where  is  the  Princess  Eliza- 
beth? Where  are  all  the  eyes  that  heretofore  watched  me? 
Where  are  all  the  listeners  and  spies  who  accompany  the 
queen  ?  " 

"  They  are  far  away  from  here,"  said  Seymour  in  a  tone 
which  betrayed  his  secret  delight.  "  They  are  far  away  from 
here,  and  need  at  least  an  hour's  time  to  come  up  with  us.  An 
hour,  queen !  are  you  aware  what  that  is  to  me  ?  An  hour  of 
freedom,  after  two  years  of  imprisonment !  An  hour  of  happi- 
ness, after  two  years  of  daily  torture,  daily  endurance  of  the 
torments  of  hell !  " 

Catharine,  who  had  at  first  smiled,  had  now  become  grave 
and  sad. 

Her  eye  rested  on  the  cap  which  had  fallen  from  her  head 
and  lay  near  her  on  the  grass. 

She  pointed  with  trembling  finger  to  the  crown,  and  said 
softly,  "  Recognize  you  that  sign,  my  lord?" 

"I  recognize  it,  my  lady;  but  in  this  hour,  I  no  longer 
shrink  back  at  it.  There  are  moments  in  which  life  is  at  its 
crowning  point,  and  when  one  heeds  not  the  abyss  that  threat- 
ens close  beneath.  Such  an  hour  is  the  present.  I  am  aware 
that  this  hour  makes  me  guilty  of  high-treason  and  may  send 


HENKY   Vm.    ASTD   HIS   COTTKT.  Ill 

me  to  the  block ;  but  nevertheless  I  will  not  be  silent.  The 
fire  Avhich  burns  in  my  breast  consumes  me.  I  must  at  length 
give  it  vent.  My  heart,  that  for  years  has  burned  upon  a 
funeral  pyre,  and  which  is  so  strong  that  in  the  midst  of  its 
agonies  it  has  still  ever  felt  a  sensation  of  its  blessedness—- 
my heart  must  at  length  find  death  or  favor.  You  shall  hear 
me,  queen ! " 

"  No,  no,"  said  she,  almost  in  anguish,  "  I  will  not,  I  cannot 
hear  you  !  Remember  that  I  am  Henry  the  Eighth's  wife,  and 
that  it  is  dangerous  to  speak  to  her.  Silence  then,  earl, 
silence,  and  let  us  ride  on." 

She  would  have  arisen,  but  her  own  exhaustion  and  Lord 
Seymour's  hand  caused  her  to  sink  back  again. 

"  No,  I  will  not  be  silent,"  said  he.  "  I  will  not  be  silent 
until  I  have  told  you  all  that  rages  and  glows  within  me.  The 
Queen  of  England  may  either  condemn  me  or  pardon  me,  but 
she  shall  know  that  to  me  she  is  not  Henry  the  Eighth's  wife, 
but  only  the  most  charming  and  graceful,  the  noblest  and 
loveliest  woman  in  England.  I  will  tell  her  that  I  never 
recollect  she  is  my  queen,  or,  if  I  do  so,  it  is  only  to  curse  the 
king,  who  was  prcsumptous  enough  to  set  this  brightly  spark- 
ling jewel  in  his  bloody  crown." 

Catharine,  almost  horrified,  laid  her  hand  on  Seymour's 
lips.  u  Silence,  unhappy  man,  silence  !  Know  you  that  it  is 
your  sentence  of  death  which  you  are  now  uttering?  Your 
sentence  of  death,  if  any  soul  hears  you  ?  "  • 

"  But  no  one  hears  me.  No  one  save  the  queen,  and  God, 
who,  however,  is  perhaps  more  compassionate  and  merciful 
than  the  queen.  Accuse  me  then,  queen ;  go  and  tell  your 
king  that  Thomas  Seymour  is  a  traitor ;  that  he  dares  love 
the  queen.  The  king  will  send  me  to  the  scaffold,  but  I  shall 
nevertheless  deem  myself  happy,  for  I  shall  at  least  die  by 
your  instrumentality.  Queen,  if  I  cannot  live  for  you,  then 
beautiful  it  is  to  die  for  you  !  " 

Catharine  listened  t<>  him  wholly  stupefied,  wholly  intoxi- 
cated. This  was,  for  her,  language  wholly  new  and  never 


112  HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

heard  before,  at  which  her  heart  trembled  in  blissful  awe, 
which  rushed  around  her  in  enchanting  melodies  and  lulled  her 
into  a  sweet  stupefaction.  Now  she  herself  even  forgot  that 
she  was  queen,  that  she  was  the  wife  of  Henry,  the  bloodthirsty 
and  the  jealous.  She  was  conscious  only  of  this,  that  the  man 
whom  she  had  so. long  loved,  was  now  kneeling  at  her  side. 
With  rapture  she  drank  in  his  words,  which  struck  upon  her  ear 
like  exquisite  music. 

Thomas  Seymour  continued.  He  told  her  all  he  had 
suffered.  He  told  her  he  had  often  resolved  to  die,  in  order  to 
put  an  end  to  these  tortures,  but  that  then  a  glance  of  her  eye, 
a  word  from  her  lips,  had  given  him  strength  to  live,  and  still 
longer  endure  these  tortures,  which  were  at  the  same  time  so 
full  of  rapture. 

"  But  now,  queen,  now  my  strength  is  exhausted,  and  it  is 
for  you  to  give  me  life  or  death.  To-morrow  I  will  ascend 
the  scaffold,  or  you  shall  permit  me  to  live,  to  live  for  you." 

Catharine  trembled  and  looked  a^him  well  nigh  astounded. 
He  seemed  so  proud  and  imperative,  she  almost  felt  a  fear  for 
him,  but  it  was  the  happy  fear  of  a  loving,  meek  woman  before 
a  strong,  commanding  man. 

"  Know  you,"  said  she,  with  a  charming  smile,  "  that  you 
almost  have  the  appearance  of  wishing  to  command  me  to  love 
you?" 

"  No,  queen,"  said  he,  proudly,  "  I  cannot  command  you  to 
love  me,  but  I  bid  you  tell  me  the  truth.  I  bid  you  do  this, 
for  I  am  a  man  who  has  the  right  to  demand  the  truth  of  a 
woman  face  to  face.  And  I  have  told  you,  you  are  not  the 
queen  to  me.  You  are  but  a  beloved,  an  adored  woman. 
This  love  has  nothing  to  do  with  your  royalty,  and  while  I 
confess  it  to  you,  I  do  not  think  that  you  abase  yourself  when 
you  receive  it.  For  the  true  love  of  a  man  is  ever  the  holiest 
gift  that  he  can  present  to  a  woman,  and  if  a  beggar  dedicates 
it  to  a  queen,  she  must  feel  herself  honored  by  it.  Oh,  queen, 
I  am  a  beggar.  I  lie  at  your  feet  and  raise  my  hands  be- 
seechingly to  you ;  but  I  want  not  charity,  I  want  not  your 


HENRY   Yin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  113 

compassion  and  pity,  which  may,  perhaps,  grant  me  an  alms 
to  lessen  my  misery.  No,  I  want  you  yourself.  I  require  all 
or  nothing.  It  will  not  satisfy  me  that  you  forgive  my  bold- 
ness, and  draw  the  veil  of  silence  over  my  mad  attempt.  No, 
I  wish  you  to  speak,  to  pronounce  my  condemnation  or  a 
benediction  on  me.  Oh,  I  know  you  are  generous  and  com- 
passionate, and  even  if  you  despise  my  love  and  will  not 
return  it,  yet,  it  may  be,  you  will  not  betray  me.  You  will 
spare  me,  and  be  silent.  But  I  repeat  it,  queen,  I  do  not  ac- 
cept this  offer  of  your  magnanimity.  You  are  to  make  me 
either  a  criminal  or  a  god  ;  for  I  am  a  criminal  if  you  condemn 
my  love,  a  god  if  you  return  it." 

"  And  do  you  know,  earl,  "  whispered  Catharine,  "  that  you 
are  very  cruel?  You  want  me  to  be  either  an  accuser  or  an 
accomplice.  You  leave  me  no  choice  but  that  of  being  either 
your  murderess  or  a  perjured  and  adulterous  woman — a  wife 
who  forgets  her  plighted  faith  and  her  sacred  duty,  and  defiles 
the  crown  which  my  husband  has  placed  upon  my  head  with 
stains,  which  Henry  will  wash  out  with  my  own  blood  and 
with  yours  also." 

"  Let  it  be  so,  then,"  cried  tha  earl,  almost  joyfully.  "  Let 
my  head  fall,  no  matter  how  or  when,  if  you  but  love  me  ;  for 
then  I  shall  still  be  immortal ;  fora  moment  in  your  arms  is  an 
eternity  of  bliss." 

"  But  I  have  already  told  you  that  not  only  your  head,  but 
mine  also,  is  concerned  in  this  matter.  You  know  the  king's 
harsh  and  cruel  disposition.  The  mere  suspicion  is  enough  to 
condemn  me.  Ah,  if  he  knew  what  we  have  just  now  spoken 
he  would  condemn  me,  as  he  condemned  Catharine 
I  Inward,  though  I  am  not  guilty  as  she  was.  Ah,  I  shudder 
ut  tin;  tliouirht  of  the  block;  and  you,  Earl  Seymour,  you 
would  hriuj:  me  to  the  scaffold,  and  yet  you  say  you  love  me  !  " 
ymour  sunk  his  head  mournfully  upon  his  breast  and* 
Mi_rlifd  deeply.  "You  have  pronounced  my  sentence,  queen, 
and  though  you  arc  too  noble  to  tell  me  the  truth,  yet  I  havo 
guessed  it.  No,  you  do  not  love  me,  for  you  see  with  keen 


114  HENEY    VHr.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

eyes  the  danger  that  threatens  you,  and  you  fear  for  yourself. 
No,  you  love  me  not,  else  you  would  think  of  nothing  save  love 
alone.  The  dangers  would  animate  you,  and  the  sword  which 
hangs  over  your  head  you  would  not  see,  or  you  would  with 
rapture  grasp  its  edge  and  say,  '  What  is  death  to  me,  since  I 
am  happy  !  What  care  I  for  dying,  since  I  have  felt  immortal 
happiness  ! '  Ah,  Catharine,  you  have  a  cold  heart  and  a  cool 
head.  May  God  preserve  them  both  to  you  ;  then  will  you 
pass  through  life  quietly  and  safely ;  but  you,  will  yet  be 
a  poor,  wretched  woman,  and  when  you  come  to  die,  they  will 
place  a  royal  crown  upon  your  coffin,  but  love  will  not  weep 
for  you.  Farewell,  Catharine,  Queen  of  England,  and  since 
you  cannot  love  him,  give  Thomas  Seymour,  the  traitor,  your 
sympathy  at  least." 

He  bowed  low  and  kissed  her  feet,  then  he  arose  and 
walked  with  firm  step  to  the  tree  where  he  had  tied  the  horses. 
But  now  Catharine  arose,  now  she  flew  to  him,  and  grasp- 
ing his  hand,  asked,  trembling  and  breathless,  "  What  are  you 
about  to  do  ?  whither  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  To  the  king,  my  lady." 

"  And  what  will  you  do  there  ?  " 

"  I  will  show  him  a  traitor  who  has  dared  love  the  queen. 
You  have  just  killed  my  heart ;  he  will  kill  only  my  body. 
That  is  less  painful,  and  I  will  thank  him  for  it." 

Catharine  uttered  a  cry,  and  with  passionate  vehemence 
drew  him  back  to  the  place  where  she  had  been  resting. 

"  If  you  do  what  you  say,  you  will  kill  me,"  said  she,  with 
trembling  lips.  "  Hear  me,  hear !  The  moment  you  mount  your 
horse  to  go  to  the  king,  I  mount  mine  too  ;  but  not  to  follow 
you,  not  to  return  to  London,  but  to  plunge  with  my  horse 
down  yonder  precipice.  Oh,  fear  nothing  ;  they  will  not  accuse 
you  of  my  murder.  They  will  say  that  I  plunged  down  there 
with  my  horse,  and  that  the  raging  animal  caused  my  death." 

"  Queen,  take  good  heed,  consider  well  what  you  say !  "  ex- 
claimed Thomas  Seymour,  his  countenance  clearing  up  and 
his  face  flaming  with  delight.  "  Bear  in  mind  that  your  words 


HENRY  Vm.   AND  HIS   COURT.  115 

must  be  either  a  condemnation  or  an  avowal.  I  wish  death, 
or  your  love  !  Not  the  love  of  a  queen,  who  thinks  to  be  gra- 
cious to  her  subject,  when  for  the  moment  she  elevates  him  to 
herself;  but  the  love  of  a  woman  who  bows  her  head  in  meek- 
ness and  receives  her  lover  as  at  the  same  time  her  lord.  Oh, 
Catharine,  be  well  on  your  guard  !  If  you  come  to  me  with  the 
pride  of  a  queen,  if  there  be  even  one  thought  in  you  which  tells 
you  that  you  are  bestowing  a  favor  on  a  subject  as  you  take 
him  to  your  heart,  then  be  silent  and  let  me  go  hence.  I  am 
proud,  and  as  nobly  born  as  yourself,  and  however  love  throws 
me  conquered  at  your  feet,  yet  it  shall  not  bow  my  head  in  the 
dust !  But  if  you  say  that  you  love  me,  Catharine,  for  that 
I  will  consecrate  my  whole  life  to  you.  I  will  be  your  lord, 
but  your  slave  also.  There  shall  be  in  me  no  thought,  no 
feeling,  no  wish,  that  is  not  devoted  and  subservient  to  you. 
And  when  I  say  that  I  will  be  your  lord,  I  mean  not  thereby 
that  I  will  not  lie  forever  at  your  feet  and  bow  my  head  in 
the  dust,  and  say  to  you :  Tread  on  it,  if  it  seem  good  to  you, 
for  I  am  your  slave  !  " 

And  speaking  thus,  he  dropped  on  his  knees  and  pressed  to 
her  feet  his  face,  whose  glowing  and  noble  expression  ravished 
Catharine's  heart. 

She  bent  down  to  him,  and  gently  lifting  his  head,  looked 
with  an  indescribable  expression  of  happiness  and  love-  deep 
into  his  beaming  eyes. 

"Do  you  love  me?"  asked  Seymour,  as  he  put  his  arm 
softly  around  her  slender  waist,  and  arose  from  his  kneeling 
attitude. 

"  I  love  you  !  "  said  she,  with  a  firm  voice  and  a  happy 
smile.  "  I  love  you,  not  as  a  queen,  but  as  a  woman  ;  and  if 
perchance  this  love  bring  us  both  to  the  scaffold,  well  then  wo 
shall  at  least  die  together,  to  meet  again  there  above !  " 

"  No,  think  not  now  of  dying,  Catharine,  think  of  living — 
of  the  beautiful,  enchanting  future  which  is  beckoning  to  us. 
Think  of  the  days  which  will  soon  come,  and  in  which  our 
love  will  no  longer  require  sccresy  or  a  veil,  but  when  we  will 


116  HENRY   Yin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

manifest  it  to  the  whole  world,  and  can  proclaim  our  happi- 
ness from  a  full  glad  breast !  Oh,  Catharine,  let  us  hope  that 
compassionate  and  merciful  death  will  loose  at  last  the  unnat- 
ural bonds  that  bind  you  to  that  old  man.  Then,  when  Henry 
is  no  more,  then'  will  you  be  mine,  mine  with  your  entire 
being,  with  your  whole  life ;  and  instead  of  a  proud  regal 
crown,  a  crown  of  myrtle  shall  adorn  your  head  !  Swear  that 
to  me,  Catharine  ;  swear  that  you  will  become  my  wife,  as 
soon  as  death  has  set  you  free." 

The  queen  shuddered  and  her  cheeks  grew  pale,  "  Oh," 
said  she  with  a  sigh,  "  death  then  is  our  hope  and  perhaps  the 
scaffold  our  end  !  " 

"  No,  Catharine,  love  is  our  hope,  and  happiness  our  end. 
Think  of  life,  of  our  future  !  Grant  my  request.  Swear  to  me 
here  in  the  face  of  God,  and  of  sacred  and  calm  nature  around 
us,  swear  to  me,  that  from  the  day  when  death  frees  you  from 
your  husband  you  will  be  mine,  my  wife,  my  consort !  Swear 
to  me,  that  you,  regardless  of  etiquette  and  unmindful  of  tyran- 
nical custom,  will  be  Lord  Seymour's  wife,  before  the  knell  for 
Henry's  death  has  died  away.  "We  will  find  a  priest,  who 
may  bless  our  love  and  sanctify  the  covenant  that  we  h^ve  this 
day  concluded  for  eternity!  Swear  to  me,  that,  till  that 
wished-for  day,  you  will  keep  for  me  your  truth  and  love,  and 
never  'forget  that  my  honor  is  yours  also,  that  your  happiness 
is  also  mine  !  " 

"  I  swear  it ! "  said  Catharine,  solemnly.  "  You  may  de- 
pend upon  me  at  all  times  and  at  all  hours.  Never  will  I  be 
untrue  to  you  ;  never  will  I  have  a  thought  that  is  not  yours. 
I  will  love  you  as  Thomas  Seymour  deserves  to  be  loved,  that 
is  with  a  devoted  and  faithful  heart.  It  will  be  my  pride  to 
subject  myself  to  you,  and  with  glad  soul  will  I  serve  and  fol- 
low you,  as  your  true  and  obedient  wife." 

"I  accept  your  oath  !  "  said  Seymour,  solemnly.  "  But  in 
return  I  swear  that  I  will  honor  and  esteem  you  as  my  queen 
and  mistress.  I  swear  to  you  that  you  shall  never  find  a 
more  obedient  subject,  a  more  unselfish  counsellor,  a  more 


HENKY   Yin.    AND   IIIS   COUKT.  117 

faithful  husband,  a  braver  champion,  than  I  will  be.  '  My  life 
for  my  queen,  my  entire  heart  for  my  beloved  ; '  this  henceforth 
shall  be  my  motto,  and  may  1  be  disowned  and  despised  by 
God  and  by  you,  if  ever  I  violate  this  oath." 

"Amen!"  said  Catharine,  with  a  bewitching  smile. 

Then  both  were  silent.  It  was  that  silence  which  only 
love  and  happiness  knows — that  silence  which  is  so  rich  in 
thoughts  and  feelings,  and  therefore  so  poor  in  words  ! 

The  wind  rustled  whisperingly  in  the  trees,  among  whose 
dark  branches  here  and  there  a  bird's  warbling  or  flute-like 
notes  resounded.  The  sun  threw  his  emerald  light  over  the 
soft  velvety  moss  carpet  of  the  ground,  which,  rising  and  falling 
in  gentle,  undulating  lines,  formed  lovely  little  hollows  and 
hillocks,  on  Avhich  now  and  then  was  seen  here  and  there  the 
slender  and  stately  figure  of  a  hart,  or  a  roe,  that,  looking 
around  searchingly  with  his  bright  eyes,  started  back  fright- 
ened into  the  thicket  on  observing  these  two  human  figures 
and  the  group  of  horses  encamped  there.  , 

Suddenly  this  quiet  was  interrupted  by  the  loud  sound  of 
the  hunter's  horn,  and  in  the  distance  were  heard  confused 
cries  and  shouts,  which  were  echoed  by  the  dense  forest  and 
repeated  in  a  thousand  tones. 

With  a  sigh  the  queen  raised  her  head  from  the  earl's 
shoulder. 

The  dream  was  at  an  end ;  the  angel  came  with  flaming 
sword  to  drive  her  from  paradise. 

For  she  was  no  longer  worthy  of  paradise.  The  fatal  word 
had  been  spoken,  and  while  it  brought  her  love,  it  had  per- 
jured her. 

Henry's  wife,  his  by  her  vow  taken  before  the  altar,  had 
betrothed  herself  to  another,  and  given  him  the' love  that  she 
owed  her  husband. 

"  Jt  is  passed,"  said  she,  mournfully.  "  These  sounds  call 
me  back  to  iny  slavery.  Wo  must  both  resume  our  roles.  I 
must  become  queen  again." 

"But  first  swear  to  me  that  you  will  never  forget  this 


118  HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

hour  ;  that  you  will  ever  think  upon  the  oaths  which  we  have 
mutually  sworn." 

She  looked  at  him  almost  astounded.  "  My  God !  can 
truth  and  love  be  forgotten?" 

"•You  will  remain  ever  true,  Catharine?" 

She  smiled.  "  See,  now,  my  jealous  lord,  do  I  address 
such  questions  to  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  queen,  you  well  know  that  you  possess  the  charm 
that  binds  forever." 

"Who  knows?"  said  she  dreamily,  as  she  raised  her 
enthusiastic  look  to  heaven,  and  seemed,  to  follow  the  bright 
silvery  clouds  which  were  sailing  slowly  across  the  blue  ether. 

Then  her  eyes  fell  on  her  beloved,  and  laying  her  hand 
softly  upon  his  shoulder,  she  said  :  "  Love  is  like  God — eternal, 
primeval,  and  ever  present !  But  you  must  believe  in  it  to 
feej  its  presence  ;  you  must  trust  it  to  be  worthy  of  its  bless- 
ing!" 

»But  the  hallooing  and  the  clangor  of  the  horns  came  nearer 
and  nearer.  Even  now  was  heard  the  barking  of  the  dogs 
and  the  tramp  of  horses. 

The  earl  had  untied  the  horses,  and  led  Hector,  who  was 
now  quiet  and  gentle  as  a  lamb,  to  his  mistress. 

"  Queen,"  said  Thomas  Seymour,  "  two  delinquents  now 
approach  you  !  Hector  is  my  accomplice,  and  had  it  not  been 
that  the  fly  I  now  see  on  his  swollen  ear  had  made  him  raving, 
I  should  be  the  most  pitiable  and  unhappy  man  in  your  king- 
dom, Avhile  now  I  am  the  happiest  and  most  enviable." 

The  queen  made  no  answer,  but  she  put  both  her  arms 
around  the  animal's  neck  and  kissed  him. 

"  Henceforth,"  said  she,  "  then  I  will  ride  only  Hector,  and 
when  he  is  old  and  unfit  for  service — " 

"  He  shall  be  tended  and  cared  for  in  the  stud  of  Countess 
Catharine  Seymour !  "  interrupted  Thomas  Seymour,  as  he 
held  the  queen's  stirrup  and  assisted  her  into  the  saddle. 

The  two  rode  in  silence  toward  the  sound  of  the  voices 
and  horns,  both  too  much  occupied  by  their  own  thoughts  to 
interrupt  them  by  trifling  words.  . 


HENEY   Yin.    AND   HIS   COUET.  119 

"  He  loves  me  ! "  thought  Catharine.  "  I  am  a  happy, 
enviable  woman,  for  Thomas  Seymour  loves  me." 

"  She  loves  me  ! "  thought  he,  with  a  proud,  triumphant 
smile.  "  I  shall,  therefore,  one  day  become  Regent  of  Eng- 
land." 

Just  then  they  came  out  on  the  large  level  meadow, 
through  which  they  had  previously  ridden,  and  over  which 
now  came,  scattered  here  and  there  in  motley  confusion,  the 
entire  royal  suite,  Princess  Elizabeth  at  the  head. 

"  One  thing  more  !"  whispered  Catharine.  "If  you  ever 
need  a  messenger  to  me,  apply  to  John  Heywood.  He  is  a 
friend  whom  we  can  trust." 

And  she  sprang  forward  to  meet  the  princess,  to  recount 
to  her  all  the  particulars  of  her  adventure,  and  her  happy 
rescue  by  the  master  of  horse. 

Elizabeth,  however,  listened  to  her  with  glowing  looks  and 
thoughts  distracted,  and  as  the  queen  then  turned  to  the  rest 
of  her  suite,  and,  surrounded  by  her  ladies  and  lords,  received 
their  congratulations,  a  slight  sign  from  the  princess  called 
Thomas  Seymour  to  her  side. 

She  allowed  her  horse  to  curvet  some  paces  forward,  by 
which  she  and  the  earl  found  themselves  separated  a  little 
from  the  rest,  and  were  sure  of  being  overheard  by  no  one. 

"  My  lord,"  said  she,  in  a  vehement,  almost  threatening 
voice,  "you  have  often  and  in  vain  besought  me  to  grant  you 
an  interview.  I  have  denied  you.  You  intimated  that  you 
had  many  things  to  say  to  me,  for  which  we  must  be  alone, 
and  which  must  reach  no  listener's  ear.  Well,  now,  to-day  I 
grant  you  an  interview,  and  I  am  at  last  inclined  to  listen  to 
you." 

She  paused  and  waited  for  a  reply.  But  the  earl  remained 
silent.  He  only  made  a  deep  and  respectful  bow,  bending  to 
the  very  neck  of  his  horse.  "  Well  and  good  ;  I  will  go  to 
this  rendezvous  were  it  but  to  blind  Elizabeth's  eyes,  that  she 
may  not  see  what  she  never  ought  to  see.  That  was  all." 

The  young  princess  cast  on  him  an  angry  look,  and  a  dark 


120  HENRY  vm.  AND  HIS  COUKT. 

scowl  gathered  on  her  brow.  "You  understand  well  how  to 
control  your  joy,"  said  she;  "and  any  one  to  see  you  just  now 
would  think — " 

"  That  Thomas  Seymour  is  discreet  enough,  not  to  let  even 
his  rapture  be  read  in  his  countenance  at  this  dangerous  court," 
interrupted  the  earl  in  a  low  murmur.  "When,  princess,  may  I 
see  you  and  where  ?  " 

"  Wait  for  the  message  that  John  Hey  wood  will  bring  you 
to-day,"  whispered  Elizabeth,  as  she  sprang  forward  and  again 
drew  near  the  queen. 

"  John  Hey  wood,  again  !  "  muttered  the  earl.  "  The  con- 
fidant of  both,  and  so  my  hangman,  if  he  wishes  to  be  !  " 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  LE    BOI    S'ENNUIT." 

KING  HENBY  was  alone  in  his  study.  He  had  spent  a  few 
hour.3  in  writing  on  a  devout  and  edifying  book,  which  he  was 
preparing  for  his  subjects,  and  which,  in  virtue  of  his  dignity 
as  supreme  lord  of  the  Church,  he  designed  to  commend  to 
their  reading  instead  of  the  Bible. 

He  now  laid  down  his  pen,  and,  with  infinite  complacency, 
looked  over  the  written  sheets,  which  were  to  be  to  his  people 
a  new  proof  of  his  paternal  love  and  care,  and  so  convince 
them  that  Henry  the  Eighth  was  not  only  the  noblest  and  most 
virtuous  of  kings,  but  also  the  wisest. 

But  this  reflection  failed  to  make  the  king  more  cheerful 
to-day ;  perhaps  because  he  had  already  indulged  in  it  too  fre- 
quently. To  be  alone,  annoyed  and  disturbed  him — there  were 
in  his  breast  so  many  secret  and  hidden  voices,  whose  whispers 
he  dreaded,  and  which,  therefore,  he  sought  to  drown — there 
were  so  many  recollections  of  blood,  which  ever  and  again 
rose  before  him,  however  often  he  tried  to  wash  them  out  in 
fresh  blood,  and  which  the  king  was  afraid  of,  though  he  as- 


HENJRY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COUBT.  121 

sumed  the  appearance  of  never  repenting,  never  feeling  disquie- 
tude. 

With  hasty  hand  he  touched  the  gold  bell  standing  by  him, 
and  his  face  brightened  as  he  saw  the  door  open  immediately, 
and  Earl  Douglas  make  his  appearance  on  the  threshold. 

"Oh,  at  length  ! "  said  the  lord,  who  had  very  well  under- 
stood the  expression  of  Henry's  features  ;  "  at  length,  the  king 
condescends  to  be  gracious  to  his  people." 

"  I  gracious  ?  "  asked  the  king,  utterly  astonished.  "  "Well, 
how  am  I  so  ?  " 

"  By  your  majesty's  resting  at  length  from  his  exertions, 
and  giving  a  little  thought  to  his  valuable  and  needful  health. 
When  you  remember,  sire,  that  England's  weal  depends  sole- 
ly and  alone  on  the  weal  of  her  king,  and  that  you  must  be  and 
remain  healthy,  that  your  people  likewise  may  be  healthy." 

The  king  smiled  with  satisfaction.  It  never  came  into  his 
head  to  doubt  the  earl's  words.  It  seemed  to  him  perfectly 
natural  that  the  weal  of  his  people  depended  on  his  person ; 
but  yet  it  was  always  a  lofty  and  beautiful  song,  and  he  loved 
to  have  his  courtiers  repeat  it. 

The  king,  as  we  have  said,  smiled,  but  there  was  some- 
thing unusual  in  that  smile,  which  did  not  escape  the  earl. 

"  He  is  in  the  condition  of  a  hungry  anaconda,"  said  Earl 
Douglas  to  himself.  "  He  is  on  the  watch  for  prey,  and  hev 
will  be  bright  and  lively  again  just  as  soon  as  he  has  tasted  a 
little  human  flesh  and  blood.  Ah,  luckily  we  are  well  supplied 
in  that  way.  Therefore,  we  will  render  unto  the  king  what  is 
the  king's.  But  we  must  be  cautious  and  go  to  work  warily." 

He  approached  the  king  and  imprinted  a  kiss  on  his  hand. 

"  I  kiss  this  hand,"  said  he,  "  which  has  been  to-day  the 
fountain  through  which  the  wisdom  of  the  head  has  been  pour- 
ed forth  on  this  blessed  paper.  I  kiss  this  paper,  which  will 
announce  and  explain  to  happy  Eugluud  God's  pure  and  una- 
dulterated word ;  but  yet  I  say  let  this  suffice  for  the  present, 
my  king ;  take  rest ;  remember  awhile  that  you  are  not  only 
a  sage,  but  also  a  man." 
G 


122  HENTBY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

"  Yes,  and  truly  a  weak  and  decrepit  one ! "  sighed  the 
king,  as  with  difficulty  he  essayed  to  rise,  and  in  so  doing 
leaned  so  heavily  on  the  earl's  arm  that  he  almost  hroke  down 
under  the  monstrous  load. 

"  Decrepit ! "  said  Earl  Douglas,  reproachfully.  "  Your 
majesty  moves  to-day  with  as  much  ease  and  freedom  as  a 
youth,  and  my  arm  was  by  no  means  needed  to  help  you  up." 

"  Nevertheless,  we  are  growing  old ! "  said  the  king,  who, 
from  his  weariness,  was  unusually  sentimental  and  low  spirit- 
ed to-day. 

"  Old  !"  repeated  Earl  Douglas.  "  Old,  with  those,  eyes 
darting  fire,  that  lofty  brow,  and  that  face,  in  every  feature  so 
noble  !  No,  your  majesty,  kings  have  this  in  common  with 
the  gods — they  never  grow  old." 

"  And  therein  they  resemble  parrots  to  a  hair  !  "  said  John 
Heywood,  who  just  then  entered  the  room.  "  I  own  a  parrot 
which  my  great-grandfather  inherited  from  his  great-grandfa- 
ther, who  was  hair-dresser  to  Henry  the  Fourth,  and  which 
to-day  still  sings  with  the  same  volubility  as  he  did  a  hundred 
years  ago  :  '  Long  live  the  king  !  long  live  this  paragon  of  vir- 
tue, sweetness,  beauty,  and  mercy  !  Long  live  the  king ! ' 
He  has  cried  this  for  hundreds  of  years,  and  he  has  repeated 
it  for  Henry  the  Fifth  and  Henry  the  Sixth,  for  Henry  the 
•  Seventh  and  Henry  the  Eighth!  And  wonderful,  the  kings 
have  changed,  but  the  song  of  praise  has  always  been  appro- 
priate, and  has  ever  been  only  the  simple  truth !  Just  like 
yours,  my  Lord  Douglas  !  Your  majesty  may  depend  upon  it, 
he  speaks  the  truth,  for  he  is  near  akin  to  my  parrot,  which 
always  calls  him  '  My  cousin,'  and  has  taught  him  his  immor- 
tal song  of  praise  to  kings." 

The  king  laughed,  while  Earl  Douglas  cast  at  John  Hey- 
wood a  sharp,  spiteful  look. 

"  He  is  an  impudent  imp,  is  he  not,  Douglas?"  said  the 
king. 

"  He  is  a  fool !  "  replied  he,  with  a  shrug. 

"  Exactly,  and  therefore   I  just  now  told  you  the  truth. 


HENKY   Vm.    ANT>  HIS   COURT.  123 


For  you  knojsv  children  and  fools  speak  the  truth.  And  I  be- 
came a  fool  just  on  this  account,  that  the  king,  whom  you  all 
deceive  by  your  lies,  may  have  about  him  some  creature,  be- 
sides his  looking  glass,  to  tell  him  the  truth." 

"  Well,  and  what  truth  will  you  serve  up  for  me  to-day?" 
"  It  is  already  served,  your  majesty.  So  lay  aside  for  a 
little  your  regal  crown  and  your  high  priesthood,  and  conclude 
to  be  for  awhile  a  carnivorous  beast.  It  is  very  easy  to  be- 
come a  king.  For  that,  nothing  more  is  necessary  than  to  be 
born  of  a  queen  under  a  canopy.  But  it  is  very  difficult  to  be 
a  man  who  has  a  good  digestion.  It  requires  a  healthy  stom- 
ach and  a  light  conscience.  Come,  King  Henry,  and  let  ua 
see  whether  you  are  not  merely  a  king,  but  also  a  man  that 
has  a  good  stomach."  And  with  a  merry  laugh  he  took  tho 
king's  other  arm  and  led  him  with  the  earl  into  the  diniug- 
room. 

The  king,  who  was  an  extraordinary  eater,  silently  beckoned 
his  suite  to  take  their  places  at  the  table,  after  he  had  seated 
himself  in  his  gilded  chair.  With  grave  and  solemn  air  he  then 
received  from  the  hands  of  the  master  of  ceremonies  the  ivory 
tablet  on  which  was  the  bill  of  fare  for  the  day.  The  king's 
dinner  was  a  solemn  and  important  affair.  A  multitude  of 
post-wagons  and  couriers  were  ever  on  the  way  to  bring  from 
the  remotest  ends  of  the  earth  dainties  for  the  royal  table.  Tho 
bill  of  fare,  therefore,  to-day,  as  ever,  exhibited  the  choicest 
and  rarest  dishes  ;  and  always  when  tho  king  found  one  of  his 
favorite  ones  written  down  he  made  an  assenting  and  approv- 
ing motion  of  the  head,  which  always  lighted  up  the  face  of  the 
master  of  ceremonies  like  a  sunbeam.  There  were  birds'  nests 
brought  from  the  East  Indies  by  a  fast-sailing  vessel,  built  spe- 
cially for  the  purpose.  There  were  hens  from  Calcutta  and  truf- 
fles from  Languedoc,  which  the  poet-king,  Francis  the  First 
of  France,  had  the  day  before  sent  to  his  royal  brother  as  a 
special  token  of  affection.  There  was  the  sparkling  wine  of 
Champagne,  and  the  fiery  wine  of  tho  Island  of  Cyprus,  which 
the  Republic  of  Venice  had  sent  to  the  king  as  a  mark  of  re- 


\ 


\124r  ,      HENBT  VIII.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

spcct.  There  were  the  heavy  wines  of  the  Rhine,  which 
looked  like  liquid  gold,  and  diffused  the  fragrance  of  a  whole 
bouquet  of  flowers,  and  with  which  the  Protestant  princes  of 
Northern  Germany  hoped  to  fuddle  the  king,  whom  they 
would  have  gladly  placed  at  the  head  of  their  league.  There, 
too,  were  the  monstrous,  gigantic  partridge  pastries,  which 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  had  sent,  and  the  glorious  fruits  of  the 
South,  from  the  Spanish  coast,  with  which  the  Emperor  Charles 
the  Fifth  supplied  the  King  of  England's  table.  For  it  was 
well  known  that,  in  order  to  make,  the  King  of  England  pro- 
pitious, it  was  necessary  first  to  satiate  him  ;  that  his  palate 
must  first  be  tickled,  in  order  to  gain  his  head  or  his  heart. 

But  to-day  all  these  things  seemed  insufficient  to  give  the 
king  the  blissful  pleasure  which,  at  other  times,  was  wont  to 
be  with  him  when  he  sat  at  table.  He  heard  John  Heywood's 
jests  and  biting  epigrams  with  a  melancholy  smile,  and  a 
cloud  was  on  his  brow. 

To  be  in  cheerful  humor,  the  king  absolutely  needed  the 
presence  of  ladies.  He  needed  them  as  the  hunter  needs  the 
roe  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  the  chase — that  pleasure  which 
consists  in  killing  the  defenceless  and  in  declaring  war  against 
the  innocent  and  peaceful. 

The  crafty  courtier,  Earl  Douglas,  readily  divined  Henry's 
dissatisfaction,  and  understood  the  secret  meaning  of  his  frowns 
and  sighs.  He  hoped  much  from  them,  and  was  firmly  resolved 
to  draw  some  advantage  therefrom,  to  the  benefit  of  his  daugh- 
ter, and  the  harm  of  the  queen. 

"Your  majesty,"  said  he,  "I  am  just  on  the  point  of  turn- 
ing traitor,  and  accusing  my  king  of  an  injustice." 

The  king  turned  his  flashing  eyes  upon  him,  and  put  his 
hand,  sparkling  with  jewelled  rings,  to  the  golden  goblet  filled 
with  Rhenish  wine. 

"  Of  an  injustice — me — your  king?"  asked  he,  with  stam- 
mering tongue. 

"Yes,  of  an  injustice,  inasmuch  as  you  are  for  me  God's 
visible  representative  on  earth.  I  would  blame  God  if  Pie 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  125 

withdrew  from  us  for  a  day  the  brightness  of  the  sun,  the  gor- 
geousness  and  perfume  of  His  flowers,  for  since  we  children 
of  men  are  accustomed  to  enjoy  these  glories,  we  have  in  a 
certain  measure  gained  a  right  to  them.  So  I  accuse  you  be- 
cause you  have  withdrawn  from  us  the  embodied  flowers  and 
the  incarnate  suns ;  because  you  have  been  so  cruel,  sire,  as' 
to  send  the  queen  to  Epping  Forest." 

"  Not  so  ;  the  queen  wanted  to  ride,"  said  Henry,  peevish- 
ly. "  The  spring  weather  attracted  her,  and  since  I,  alas  !  do 
not  possess  God's  exalted  attribute  of  ubiquity,  I  was,  no  doubt, 
obliged  to  come  to  the  resolution  of  being  deprived  of  her  pres- 
ence. There  is  no  horse  capable  of  carrying  the  King  of 
England." 

"  There  is  Pegasus,  however,  and  in  masterly  manner  you 
know  how  to  manage  him.  But  how,  your  majesty !  the 
queen  wanted  to  ride,  though  she  was  deprived  of  your  pres- 
ence thereby?  She  wanted  to  ride,  though  this  pleasure-ride 
was  at  the  same  time  a  separation  from  you?  Oh  how  cold 
and  selfish  are  women's  hearts  !  Were  I  a  woman,  I  would 
never  depart  from  your  side,  I  would  covet  %o  greater  happi- 
ness than  to  be  near  you,  and  to  listen  to  that  high  and  exalted 
wisdom  which  pours  from  your  inspired  lips.  Were  I  a 
woman — " 

"  Earl,  I  opine  that  your  wish  is  perfectly  fulfilled,"  said 
John  Heywood  seriously.  "  You  make  in  all  respects  the 
impression  of  an  old  woman  !  " 

All  laughed.  But  the  king  did  not  laugh ;  he  remained 
serious  and  looked  gloomily  before  him. 

"  It  is  true,"  muttered  he,  "  she  seemed  excited  with  joy 
about  this  excursion,  and  in  her  eyes  shone  a  fire  I  have 
seldom  seen  there.     There  must  be  some  peculiar  circumstance ' 
connected  with  this  ride.     Who  accompanied  the  queen?" 

"  Princess  Elizabeth,"  said  John  Heywood,  who  had  heard 
every  thing,  and  saw  clearly  the  arrow  that  the  earl  hnd  shot 
at  the  queen.  "  Princess  Elizabeth,  her  true  and  dear  friend, 
who  never  leaves  her  side.  Besides,  her  maids  of  honor,  who, 


126  HENRY   Vin.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

like  the  dragon  in  the  fable,  keep  watch,  over  the  beautiful 
princess." 

"  Who  else  is  in  the  queen's  company  ?  "  inquired  Henry, 
sullenly. 

"  The  master  of  horse,  Earl  of  Sudley,"  said  Douglas, 
11  and—" 

"  That  is  an  observation  in  the  highest  degree  superfluous,'' 
interrupted  John  Heywood  ;  "  it  is  perfectly  well  understood 
by  itself  that  the  master  of  horse  accompanies  the  queen. 
That  is  just  as  much  his  office  as  it  is  yours  to  sing  the  song 
of  your  cousin,  my  parrot." 

"  He  is  right,"  said  the  king  quickly.  "  Thomas  Seymour 
must  accompany  her,  and  it  is  my  will  also.  Thomas  Sey- 
mour is  a  faithful  servant,  and  this  he  has  inherited  from  his 
sister  Jane,  my  much  loved  queen,  now  at  rest  with  God,  that 
he  is  devoted  to  his  king  in  steadfast  affection." 

"  The  time  has  not  yet  come  when  one  may  assail  the  Sey- 
mours," thought  the  earL  "  The  king  is  yet  attached  to  them  ; 
so  he  will  feel  hostile  toward  the  foes  of  the  Seymours.  Let 
us  then  begin  OUE  attack  on  Henry  Howard — that  is  to  say,  on 
\he  queen." 

"Who  accompanied  the  queen  besides?"  inquired  Henry 
the  Eighth,  emptying  the  golden  beaker  at  a  draught,  as 
though  he  would  thereby  cool  the  fire  which  already  began  to 
blaze  within  him.  But  the  fiery  Ehenish  wine  instead  of  cool- 
ing only  heated  him  yet  more  ;  it  drove,  like  a  tempest,  the  fire 
kindled  in  his  jealous  heart  in  bright  flames  to  his  head,  and 
made  his  brain  glow  bike  his  heart. 

"Who  else  accompanied  her  besides  these?"  asked  Earl 
Douglas  carelessly.  "Well,  I  think,  the  lord  chamberlain, 
"Earl  of  Surrey." 

A  dark  scowl  gathered  on  the  king's  brow.  The  b'on  had 
scented  his  prey. 

"  The  lord  chamberlain  is  not  in  the  queen's  train  !  "  said 
John  Heywood  earnestly. 

"  No,"  exclaimed  Earl  Douglas.  "  The  poor  earl.  That 
will  make  him  very  sad." 


HENKY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT.  127 

"  And  why  think  you  that  will  make  him  sad?  "  asked  the 
king  in  a  voice  very  like  the  roll  of  distant  thunder. 

"  Because  the  Earl  of  Surrey  is  accustomed  to  live  in  the 
sunshine  of  royal  favor,  sire  ;  because  he  resembles  that  flower 
which  always  turns  its  head  to  the  sun,  and  receives  from  it 
vigor,  color,  and  brilliancy." 

"  Let  him  take  care  that  the  sun  does  not  scorch  him," 
muttered  the  king. 

"  Earl,"  said  John  Heywood,  "  you  must  put  on  your 
spectacles  so  that  you  can  see  better.  This  time  you  have  con- 
founded the  sun  with  one  of  its  satellites.  Earl  Surrey  is  far 
too  prudent  a  man  to  be  so  foolish  as  to  gaze  at  the  sun,  and 
thereby  blind  his  eyes  and  parch  his  brain.  And  so  he  is 
satisfied  to  worship  one  of  the  planets  that  circle  round  the 
sun." 

"What  does  the  fool  intend  to  say  by  that?"  asked  the 
earl  contemptuously. 

"  The  wise  will  thereby  give  you  to  understand  that  you 
have  this  time  mistaken  your  daughter  for  the  queen,"  said 
John  Heywood,  emphasizing  sharply  every  word,  "  and  that 
it  has  happened  to  you,  as  to  many  a  great  astrologer,  you 
have  taken  a  planet  for  a  sun." 

Earl  Douglas  cast  a  dark,  spiteful  look  at  John  Heywood, 
who  answered  it  with  one  equally  piercing  and  furious. 

Their  eyes  were  firmly  fixed  on  each  other's,  and  in  those 
eyes  they  both  read  all  the  hatred  and  all  the  bitterness  which 
were  working  in  the  depths  of  their  souls.  '  Both  knew  that 
they  had  from  that  hour  sworn  to  each  .other  an  enmity  burn- 
ing and  full  of  danger. 

The  king  had  noticed  nothing  of  this  dumb  but  significant 
scene.  Ho  was  looking  down,  brooding  over  his  gloomy, 
thoughts,  and  the  storm-clouds  rolling  around  his  brow  gath- 
i-^'l  darker  and  darkjSk 

With  an  impetuous  movement  he  arose  from  his  seat,  and 
this  time  he  needed  no  helping  hand  to  stand  up.  Wrath  was 
the  mighty  lever  that  threw  him  up. 


128  HENRY  Vm.   AND  HIS  COUET. 

The  courtiers  arose  from  their  seats  in  silence,  and  nobodj 
besides  John  Heywood  observed  the  look  of  understanding 
which  Earl  Douglas  exchanged  with  Gardiner,  bishop  of  Win- 
>  Chester,  and  Wriothesley,  the  lord  chancellor. 

"Ah,  why  is  not  Cranmer  here?"  said  John  Heywood  to 
himself.  "  I  see  the  three  tiger-cats  prowling,  so  there  must 
be  prey  to  devour  somewhere.  Well,  I  will  at  any  rate  keep 
my  ears  open  wide  enough  to  hear  their  roaring." 

"  The  dinner  is  over,  gentlemen  ! "  said  the  king  hastily  ; 
and  the  courtiers  and  gentlemen  in  waiting  silently  withdrew 
to  the  anteroom. 

Only  Earl  Douglas,  Gardiner,  and  Wriothesley,  remained 
in  the  hall,  while  John  Heywood  crept  softly  into  the  king's 
cabinet  and  concealed  himself  behind  the  hanging  of  gold  bro- 
cade which  covered  the  door  leading  from  the  king's  study  to 
the  outer  anteroom. 

"  My  lords,"  said  the  king,  "  follow  me  into  my  cabinet. 
As  we  are  dull,  the  most  advisable  thing  for  us  to  do  is  to 
divert  ourselves  while  we  occupy  ourselves  with  the  weal 
of  our  beloved  subjects,  and  consult  concerning  their  happi- 
ness and  what  is  conducive  to  their  welfare.  Follow  me  then, 
and  we  will  hold  a  general  consultation." 

"  Earl  Douglas,  your  arm  !  "  and  as  the  king  leaned  on  it 
and  walked  slowly  toward  the  cabinet,  at  the  entrance  of 
which  the  lord  chancellor  and  the  Bishop  of  Winchester  were 
waiting  for  him,  he  asked  in  a  low  voice :  "  You  say  that 
Henry  Howard  dares  ever  intrude  himself  into  the  queen's 
presence  ?  " 

"  Sire,  I  did  not  say  that ;  I  meant  only  that  he  is  con- 
stantly to  be  seen  in  the  queen's  presence." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  that  she  perhaps  authorizes  him  to  do  so," 
said  the  king,  grinding  his  teeth. 

"  Sire,  I  hold  the  queen  to  be  a  noble  and  dutiful  wife."  * 

"  I  should  be  quite  inclined  to  lay  your  head  at  your  feet 
if  you  did  not !  "  said  the  king,  in  whose  face  the  first  lightning 
of  the  bursting  cloud  of  wrath  began  to  flash. 


HENRY   VJH.    AND   HIS    COURT.  129 

"  My  head  belongs  to  the  king ! "  said  Earl  Douglas  re- 
spectfully. "  Let  him  do  with  it  as  he  pleases." 

"  But  Howard — you  mean,  then,  that  Howard  loves  the 
queen  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sire,  I  dare  affirm  that." 

"  Now,  by  the  Mother  of  God,  I  will  tread  the  serpent 
under  my  feet,  as  I  did  his  sister !  "  exclaimed  Henry,  fiercely. 
"  The  Howards  are  an  ambitious,  dangerous,  and  hypocritical 
race." 

"  A  race  that  never  forgets'that  a  daughter  of  their  house 
has  sat  on  your  throne." 

"  But  they  shall  forget  it,"  cried  the  king,  "  and  I  must 
wash  these  proud  and  haughty  thoughts  out  of  their  brain 
with  their  own  blood.  They  have  not  then  learned,  from  the 
example  of  their  sister,  how  I  punish  disloyalty.  This  insolent 
race  needs  another  fresh  example.  Well,  they  shall  have  it. 
Only  put  the  means  in  my  hand,  Douglas,  only  a  little  hook 
that  I  can  strike  into  the  flesh  of  these  Howards,  and  I  tell 
you,  with  that  little  hook  I  will  drag  them  to  the  scaffold. 
Give  me  proof  of  the.  earl's  criminal  love,  and  I  promise  you 
that  for  this  I  will  grant  you  what  you  ask." 

"  Sire,  I  will  give  you  this  proof." 

"When?" 

"  In  four  days,  sire !  At  the  great  contest  of  the  poets, 
which  you  have  ordered  to  take  place  on  the  queen's  birth- 
day." 

u  I  thank  you,  Douglas,  I  thank  you,"  said  the  king  with . 
an  expression  almost  of  joy.      In  four  days  you  will  have  rid 
me  of  the  troublesome  race  of  Howards." 

"  But,  sire,  if  I  cannot  give  the  proof  you  demand  without 
accusing  one  other  person  ?  " 

The  king,  who  was  just  about  to  pass  the  door  of  Ins  cabi- 
net, stood  still,  and  looked  steadily  into  the  earl's  eyes. — 
u  Then,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  peculiarly  awful,  "  you  mean  the 
queen?  Well,  if  she  is  guilty,  I  will  punish  her.  God  has 
placed  the  sword  in  my  hand  that  I  may  bear  it  to  His  honor, 
0* 


130  HENRY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

and  to  the  terror  of  mankind,  if  the  queen  has  sinned,  she 
will  be  punished.  Furnish  me  the  proof  of  Howard's  guilt, 
and  do  not  trouble  yourself  if  we  thereby  discover  the  guilt 
of  others.  We  shall  not  timidly  shrink  back,  but  let  justice 
take  its  course." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
THE  QUEEN'S  FRIEND. 

EARL  DOUGLAS,  Gardiner,  and  Wriothesley,  had  accompa- 
nied the  king  into  his  cabinet. 

At  last  the  great  blow  was  to  be  struck,  and  the  plan  of 
the  three  enemies  of  the  queen,  so  long  matured  and  well-con- 
sidered, was  to  be  at  length  put  in  execution.  Therefore,  as 
they  followed  the  king,  who  with  unwonted  activity  preceded 
them,  they  exchanged  with  each  other  one  more  look  of  mu- 
tual understanding. 

By  that  look  Earl  Douglas  said,  "  The  hour  has  come. 
Be  ready !  " 

And  the  looks  of  his  friends  responded,  "  We  are  ready  !  " 

John  Heywood,  who,  hidden  behind  the  hangings,  saw  and 
observed  every  thing,  could  not  forbear  a  slight  shudder  at  the 
sight  of  these  four  men,  whose  dark  and  hard  features  seemed 
incapable  of  being  touched  by  any  ray  of  pity  or  mercy. 

There  was  first  the  king,  that  man  with  the  Protean  coun- 
tenance, across  which  storm  and  sunshine,  God  and  the  devil 
traced  each  minute  new  lines  ;  who  could  be  now  an  inspired 
enthusiast,  and  now  a  bloodthirsty  tyrant ;  now  a  sentimental 
wit,  and  anon  a  wanton  reveler  ;  the  king,  on  whose  constancy 
nobody,  not  even  himself,  could  rely ;  ever  ready,  as  it  suited 
his  caprice  or  his  interest,  to  betray  his  most  faithful  friend, 
and  to  send  to  the  scaffold  to-day  those  whom  but  yesterday  he 
had  caressed  and  assured  of  his  unchanging  affection  ;  the 
king,  who  considered  himself  privileged  to  indulge  with  impu- 


HEKEY   Via.    AJ^D   HIS   COURT.  131 

nity  his  low  appetites,  his  revengeful  impulses,  his  blood- 
thirsty inclinations  ;  who  was  devout  from  vanity,  because  de- 
votion afforded  him  an  opportunity  of  identifying  himself  with 
God,  and  of  regarding  himself  in  some  sort  the  patron  of 
Deity. 

There  was  Earl  Douglas,, the  crafty  courtier  with  ever- 
smiling  face,  who  seemed  to  love  everybody,  while  in  fact  he 
hated  all ;  who  assumed  the  appearance  of  perfect  harmless- 
ness,  and  seemed  to  be  indifferent  to  every  thing  but  pleasure, 
while  nevertheless  secretly  he  held  in  his  hand  all  the  strings 
of  that  great  net  which  encompassed  alike  court  and  king — 
Earl  Douglas,  whom  the  king  loved  for  this  alone,  because  he 
generally  gave  him  the  title  of  grand  and  wise  high-priest  of  the 
Church,  and  who  was,  notwithstanding  this,  Loyola's  vicege- 
rent, and  a  true  and  faithful  adherent  of  that  pope  who  had 
damned  the  king  as  a  degenerate  son  and  given  him  over  to 
the  wrath  of  God. 

Lastly,  there  were  the  two  men  with  dark,  malignant  looks, 
with  inflexible,  stony  faces,  which  were  never  lighted  up  by  a 
smile,  or  a  gleam  of  joy  ;  who  always  condemned,  always  pun- 
ished, and  whose  countenances  never  brightened  save  when 
the  dying  shriek  of  the  condemned,  or  the  groans  of  some  poor 
wretch  upon  the  rack,  fell  upon  their  ears  ;  who  were  the  tor- 
mentors of  humanity,  while  they  called  themselves  the  minis- 
ters and  servants  of  God. 

"  Sire,"  said  Gardiner,  when  the  king  had  slowly  taken 
his  seat  upon  the  ottoman — "  sire,  let  us  first  ask  the  bless- 
ing of  the  Lord  our  God  on  this  hour  of  conference.  May 
God,  who  is  love,  but  who  is  wrath  also,  may  He  enlighten  aud 
bless  us !  " 

The  king  devoutly  folded  his  hands,  but  it  was  only  a 
prayer  of  wrath  that  animated  his  soul. 

"  Grant,  O  God,  that  I  may  punish  Thine  enemies,  and 
everywhere  dash  in  pieces  the  guilty  1" 

"  Amen  1 "  said  Gardiner,  as  he  repeated  with  solemn 
earnestness  the  king's  words. 


132  HENRY  Vin.    AND    HIS   COTJBT. 

"  Send  us  the  thunderbolt  of  Thy  wrath,"  prayed  Wriothes- 
ley,  "  that  we  may  teach  the  world  to  recognize  Thy  power  and 
glory!" 

Earl  Douglas  took  care  not  to  pray  aloud.  What  he  had 
to  request  of  God  was  cot  allowed  to  reach  the  ear  of  the  king. 

"  Grant,  O  God,"  prayed  he  in  his  heart,  "  grant  that  my 
work  may  prosper,  and  that  this  dangerous  queen  may  ascend 
the  scaffold,  to  make  room  for  my  daughter,  who  is  destined 
to  bring  back  into  the  arms  of  our  holy  mother,  the  Church, 
this  guilty  and  faithless  king." 

"  And  now,  my  lords,"  said  the  kingj  fetching  a  long  "breath, 
"  now  tell  me  how  stand  matters  in  my  kingdom,  and  at  my 
court?" 

"  Badly,"  said  Gardiner.  "  Unbelief  again  lifts  up  its 
head.  It  is  a  hydra.  If  you  strike  off  one  of  its  heads,  two 
others  immediately  spring  up  in  its  place.  This  cursed  sect  of 
reformists  and  atheists  multiplies  day  by  day,  and  our  prisons 
are  no  longer  sufficient  to  contain  them ;  and  when  we  drag 
them  to  the  stake,  their  joyful  and  courageous  death  always 
makes  fresh  proselytes  and  fresh  apostates." 

"  Yes,  matters  are  bad,"  said  the  Lord  Chancellor  Wrio- 
thesley  ;  "  in  vain  have  we  promised  pardon  and  forgiveness  to 
all  those  who  would  return  penitent  and  contrite  ;  they  laugh 
to  scorn  our  offers  of  pardon,  and  prefer  a  death  of  torture  to 
the  royal  clemency.  What  avails  it  that  we  have  burnt  to 
death  Miles  Coverdale,  who  had  the  hardihood  to  translate  the 
Bible?  His  death  appears  to  have  been  only  the  tocsin  that 
aroused  other  fanatics,  and,  without  our  being  able  to  divine 
or  suspect  where  all  these  books  come  from,  they  have  over- 
flowed and  deluged  the  whole  land  ;  and  we  now  already 
have  more  than  four  translations  of  the  Bible.  The  people 
read  them  with  eagerness ;  and  the  corrupt  seed  of  mental 
illutnination  and  free-thinking  waxes  daily  more  powerful  and 
more  pernicious." 

"  And  now  you,  Earl  Douglas?  "  asked  the  king,  when  the 
lord  chancellor  ceased.  "  These  noble  lords  have  told  me  how 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTIET.  133 

• 

matters  stand  in  my  kingdom.  You  will  advise  me  what  is 
the  aspect  of  things  at  my  court." 

"  Sire,"  said  Earl  Douglas,  slowly  and  solemnly — for  he 
wished  each  word  to  sink  into  the  king's  breast  like  a  poisoned 
arrow — "  sire,  the  people  but  follow  the  example  which  the 
court. sets  them.  How  can  you  require  faith  of  the  people, 
when  under  their  own  eyes  the  court  turns  faith  to  ridicule, 
and  when  infidels  find  at  court  aid  and  .protection  ?  " 

"  You  accuse,  but  give  no  names,"  said  the  king,  impa- 
tiently. "  "Who  dares  at  my  court  be  a  protector  of  heretics  ?  " 

"  Cranmer,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury !  "  said  the  three 
men,  as  with  one  mouth.  The  signal-word  was  spoken,  the 
standard  of  a  bloody  straggle  set  up. 

"  Cranmer ?"  repeated  the  king  thoughtfully.  "He  has, 
however,  always  been  a  faithful  servant  and  an  attentive 
friend  to  me.  It  was  he  who  delivered  me  from  the  unholy 
bond  with  Catharine  of  Arragon  :  it  was  he  too  who  warned 
me  of  Catharine  Howard,  and  furnished  me  with  proofs  of 
her  guilt.  Of  what  misdemeanor  do  you  accuse  him  ?  " 

"  He  denies  the  six  articles^"  said  Gardiner,  whose  mali- 
cious face  now  glowed  with  bitter  hatred.  "  He  reprobates 
auricular  confession,  and  believes  not  that  the  voluntarily 
taken  vows  of  celibacy  are  binding." 

"  If  he  does  that,  then  ho  is  a  traitor !  "  cried  the  king, 
who  was  fond  of  always  throwing  a  reverence  for  chastity  and 
modesty,  ns  a  kind  of  holy  mantle,  over  his  own  profligate  and 
lewd  life ;  and  whom  nothing  more  embittered  than  to  en- 
counter another  on  that  path  of  vice  which  he  himself,  by  vir- 
tue of  his  royal  prerogative,  and  his  crown  by  the  grace  of 
God,  could  travel  in  perfect  safety. 

"  If  he  does  that,  then  he  is  a  traitor !  My  arm  of  vengeance 
will  smite  him  !  "  repeated  the  king  again.  "  It  was  I  who 
gave  my  people  the  six  articles,  as  a  sacred  and  authoritative 
declaration  of  faith  ;  and  I  will  not  suffer  this  only  true  and 
right  doctrine  to  be  assailed  and  obscured.  But  you  arc  mis- 
taken, my  lords.  I  am  acquainted  with  Cranmer,  and  I  know 
that  he  is  loyal  and  faithful." 


134:  HENBT   VIII.    AND   HIS   COUBT. 

"  And  yet  it  is  he,"  said  Gardiner,  "  who  confirms  these 
heretics  in  their  obduracy  and  stiff-neckedness.  He  is  the 
cause  why  these  lost  wretches  do  not,  from  the  fear  of  divine 
wrath  at  least,  return  to  you,  their  sovereign  and  high-priest. 
For  he  preaches  to  them  that  God  is  love  and  mercy ;  he 
teaches  them  that  Christ  came  into  the  world  in  order  to  bring 
to  the  world  love  and  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  and  that  they  alone 
are  Christ's  true  disciples  and  servants  who  emulate  His  love. 
Do  you  not  see  then,  sire,  that  this  is  a  covert  and  indirect  ac- 
cusation against  yourself,  and  that  while  he  praises  pardoning 
love,  he  at  the  same  time  condemns  and  accuses  your  right- 
eous and  punitory  wrath  ?  " 

The  king  did  not  answer  immediately,  but  sat  with  his 
eyes  fixed,  grave  and  pondering.  The  fanatical  priest  had  gone 
too  far  ;  and,  without  being  aware  of  it,  it  was  he  himself  who 
was  that  very  instant  accusing  the  king. 

Earl  Douglas  felt  this.  He  read  in  the  king's  face  that  he 
was  just  then  in  one  of  those  moments  of  contrition  which 
sometimes  came  over  him  when  his  soul  held  involuntary  in- 
tercourse with  itself.  It  was  necessary  to  arouse  the  sleeping 
tiger  and  point  out  to  him  some  prey,  so  as  to  make  him  again 
bloodthirsty. 

"  It  would  be  proper  if  Cranmer  preached  only  Christian 
love,"  said  he.  "Then  would  he  be  only  a  faithful  servant 
of  his  Lord,  and  a  follower  of  his  king.  But  he  gives  to  the 
world  an  abominable  example  of  a  disobedient  and  perfidious 
servant ;  he  denies  the  truth  of  the  six  articles,  not  in  words, 
but  in  deeds.  You  have  ordered  that  the  priests  of  the  Church 
remain  single.  Now,  then,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  is 
married ! " 

"  Married !  "  cried  the  king,  his  visage  glowing  with  rage. 
"Ah,  I  will  chastise  him,  this  transgressor  of  my  holy  laws  ! 
A  minister  of  the  Church,  a  priest,  whose  whole  life  should 
be  naught  but  an  exhibition  of  holiness,  an  endless  communion 
with  God,  and  whose  high  calling  it  is  to  renounce  fleshly 
lusts  and  earthly  desires  !  And  he  is  married  !  I  will  make 


HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  135 

him  feel  the  whole  weight  of  my  royal  anger  !  He  shall  learn 
from  his  own  experience  that  the  king's  justice  is  inexorable, 
and  that  in  every  case  he  smites  the  head  of  the  sinner,  be  he 
who  he  may ! " 

"  Your  majesty  is  the  embodiment  of  wisdom  and  justice,' 
said  Douglas,  "  and  your  faithful  servants  well  know,  if  the 
royal  justice  is  sometimes  tardy  in  smiting  guilty  offenders, 
this  happens  not  through  your  will,  but  through  your  servants 
who  venture  to  stay  the  arm  of  justice." 

"When  and  where  has  this  happened ?"  asked  Henry; 
and  his  'face  flushed  with  rage  and  excitement.  "  Where  is 
the  offender  whom  I  have  not  punished?  Where  in  my  realm 
lives  a  being  who  has  sinned  against  God  or  his  king,  and  whom 
I  have  not  dashed  to  atoms? " 

"  Sire,"  said  Gardiner  solemnly,  "Anne  Askew  is  yet 
alive." 

"  She  lives  to  mock  at"  your  wisdom  and  to  scoff  at  your 
holy  creed  !  "  cried  Wriothesley. 

"  She  lives,  because  Archbishop  Cranmer  wills  that  she 
should  not  die,"  said  Douglas,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

The  king  broke  out  into  a  short,  dry  laugh.  "Ah,  Cran- 
mer wills  not  that  Anne  Askew  die !  "  said  he,  sneering. 
"  He  wills  not  that  this  girl,  who  has  so  fearfully  offended 
against  her  king,  and  against  God,  should  be  punished  !  " 

"  Yes,  she  has  offended  fearfully,  and  yet  two  years  have 
passed  away  since  her  offence , "  cried  Gardiner — "  two  years 
which  she  has  spent  in  deriding  God  and  mocking  the  king !  " 

"Ah,"  said  the  king,  "we  have  still  hoped  to  turn  this 
young,  misguided  creature  from  the  ways  of  sin  and  error  to 
the  path  of  wisdom  and  repentance.  We  wished  for  once  to 
give  our  people  a  shining  example  of  our  willingness  to  for- 
give those  who  repent  and  renounce  their  heresy,  and  to  re- 
store them  to  a  participation  of  our  royal  favor.  Therefore 
it  was  that  we  commissioned  you,  my  lord  bishop,  by  virtue 
of  your  prayers  and  your  forcible  and  convincing  words,  to 
pluck  this  poor  child  from  the  claws  of  the  devil,  who  has 
charmed  her  ear." 


136  HENEY   VIH.   AND   HIS   COTEBT. 

"  But  she  is  unbending,"  said  Gardiner,  grinding  his  teeth. 
"  In  vain  have  I  depicted  to  her  the  pains  of  hell,  which  await 
her  if  she  return  not  to  the  faith ;  in  vain  have  I  subjected 
her  to  every  variety  of  torture  and  penance ;  in  vain  have  I 
sent  to  her  in  prison  other  converts,  and  had  them  pray  with 
her  night  and  day  incessantly ;  she  remains  unyielding,  hard 
as  stone,  and  neither  the  fear  of  punishment  nor  the  prospect 
of  freedom  and  happiness  has  the  power  to  soften  that  mar- 
ble heart." 

"  There  is  one  means  yet  untried,"  said  Wriothesley. — "  a 
means,  moreover,  which  is  a  more  effective  preacher  of  repent- 
ance than  the  most  enthusiastic  orators  and  the  most  fervent 
prayers,  and  which  I  have  to  thank  for  bringing  back  to  God 
and  the  faith  many  of  the  most  hardened  heretics." 

"  And  this  means  is — " 

"  The  rack',  your  majesty." 

"  Ah,  the  rack ! "  replied  the  king,  with  an  involuntary 
shudder. 

"  All  means  are  good  that  lead  to  the  holy  end  !  "  said 
Gardiner,  devoutly  folding  his  hands. 

"  The  soul  must  be  saved,  though  the  body  be  pierced  with 
wounds  !  "  cried  Wriothesley. 

"  The  people  must  be  convinced,"  said  Douglas,  "  that  the 
lofty  spirit  of  the  king  spares  not  even  those  who  are  under  the 
protection  of  influential  and  mighty  personages.  The  people 
murmur  that  this  time  justice  is  not  permitted  to  prevail,  be- 
cause Archbishop  Cranmer  protects  Anne  Askew,  and  the 
queen  is  her  friend." 

"  The  queen  is  never  the  friend  of  a  criminal !  "  said  Hen- 
ry, vehemently*. 

"  Perchance  she  does  not  consider  Anne  Askew  a  crimi- 
nal," responded  Earl  Douglas,  with  a  slight  smile.  "It  is 
known,  indeed,  that  the  queen  is  a  great  friend  of  the  Refor- 
mation ;  and  the  people,  who  dare  not  call  her  a  heretic — the! 
people  call  her  '  the  Protestant." 

"  Is  it,  then,  really  believed  that  it  is  Catharine  who  pro- 


HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  137 

tects  Anne  Askew,  and  keeps  her  from  the  stake?"  inquired 
the  king,  thoughtfully. 

"  It  is  so  thought,  your  majesty." 

"  They  shall  soon  see  that  they  are  mistaken,  and  that 
Henry  the  Eighth  well  deserves  to  be  called  the  Defender  of 
the  Faith  and  the  Head  of  his  Church  ! "  cried  the  king,  with 
burning  rage.  "  For  when  have  I  shown  myself  so  longsuf- 
fering  and  weak  in  punishing,  that  people  believe  me  inclined  to 
pardon  and  deal  gently  ?  Have  I  not  sent  to  the  scaffold  even 
Thomas  More*  and  Cromwell,  two  renowned  and  in  a  certain 
respect  noble  and  high-minded  men,  because  they  dared  defy 
my  supremacy  and  oppose  the  doctrine  and  ordinance  which  I 
commanded  them  to  believe  ?  Have  I  not  sent  to  the  block 
two  of  my  queens — two  beautiful  young  women,  in  whom  my 
heart  was  well  pleased,  even  when  I  punished  them — because 
they  had  provoked  my  wrath  ?  Who,  after  such  brilliant  ex- 
amples of  our  annihilating  justice,  who  dare  accuse  us  of  for- 
bearance ?  " 

•"  But  at  that  time,  sire,"  said  Douglas,  in  his  soft,  insinu- 
ating voice,  "but  at  that  time  no  queen  as  yet  stood  at  your 
side  who  called  heretics  true  believers,  and  favored  traitors 
with  her  friendship." 

The  king  frowned,  and  bis  wrathful  look  encountered  the 
friendly  and  submissive  countenance  of  the  earl.  "  You  know 
I  hate  these  covert  attacks,"  said  he.  "  If  you  can  tax  the 
queen  with  any  crime,  well  now,  do  so.  *  If  you  cannot,  hold 
your  peace !  " 

"  The  queen  is  a  noble  and  virtuous  lady,"  said  the  carl, 
"  only  she  sometimes  permits  herself  to  be  led  away  by  her 
magnanimous  spirit.  Or  how,  your  majesty,  can  it  possibly 
be  with  your  permission  that  my  lady  the  queen  maintains  a 
correspondence  with  Anne  Askew?" 

"  What  say  you  ?  The  queen  in  correspondence  with  Anne 
Askew  ?  "  cried  the  king  in  a  voice  of  thunder.  "  That  is  a 
lie,  a  shameless  lie,  hatched  up  to  ruin  the  queen  ;  for  it  is  very 
well  known  that  the  poor  king,  who  has  been  so  often  deceived, 


138  HENEY   Vin.    A2TD   HIS   COURT. 

so  often  imposed  upon,  believes  himself  to  have  at  last  found  in  • 
this  woman  a  being  whom  he  can  trust,  and  in  whom  he  can 
put  faith.  And  they  grudge  him  that.  They  wish  to  strip 
him  of  this  last  hope  also,  that  his  heart  may  harden  entirely 
to  stone,  and  no  emotion  of  pity  evermore  find  access  to  him. 
Ah,  Douglas,  Douglas,  beware  of  my  wrath,  if  you  cannot 
prove  what  you  say ! " 

"  Sire,  I  can  prove  it !  For  Lady  Jane  herself,  no  longer 
ago  than  yesterday,  was  made  to  give  up  a  note  from  Anne 
Askew  to  the  queen." 

The  king  remained  silent  for  a  while,  and  gazed  fixedly  on 
the  ground.  His  three  confidants  observed  him  with  breath- 
less, trembling  expectation. 

At  length  the  king  raised  his  head  again,  and  turned  his 
gaze,  which  was  now  grave  and  steady,  upon  the  lord  chan- 
cellor. 

"  My  Lord  Chancellor  Wriothesley,  said  he,  "  I  empower 
you  to  conduct  Anne  Askew  to  the  torture-room,  and  try 
whether  the  torments  which  are  prepared  for  the  body  are 
perchance  able  to  bring  this  erring  soul  to  an  acknowledg- 
ment of  her  faults.  My  Lord  Bishop  Gardiner,  I  promise  my 
word  that  I  will  give  attention  to  your  accusation  against  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  that,  if  it  be  well  founded,  he 
shall  not  escape  punishment.  My  Lord  Douglas,  I  will  give 
my  people  and  all  the  world  proof  that  I  am  still  God's  righteous 
and  avenging  vicegerent  on  earth,  and  that  no  consideration 
can  restrain  my  wrath,  no  after-thought  stay  my  arm,  when- 
ever it  is  ready  to  fall  and  smite  the  head  of  the  guilty.  And 
now,  my  lords,  let  us  declare  this  session  at  an  end.  Let  us 
breathe  a  little  from  these  exertions,  and  seek  some  recreation 
for  one  brief  hour. 

"  My  Lords  Gardiner  and  Wriothesley,  you  are  now  at 
liberty.  You,  Douglas,  will  accompany  me  into  the  small  recep- 
tion-room. I  want  to  see  bright  and  laughing  faces  around 
me.  Call  John  Hey  wood,  and  if  you  meet  any  ladies  in  the 
palace,  of  course  I  beg  them  to  shed  on  us  a  little  of  that  sun- 
shine which  you  say  is  peculiarly  woman's." 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET.  139 

He  laughed,  and,  leaning  on  the  earl's  arm,  left  the  cabinet. 

Gardiner  and  "Wriothesley  stood  there  in  silence,  watching 
the  king,  who  slowly  and  heavily  traversed  the  adjacent  hall, 
and  whose  cheery  and  laughing  voice  came  ringing  back  to 
them. 

"  He  is  a  weathercock,  turning  every  moment  from  side 
to  side,"  said  Gardiner,  with  a  contemptuous  shrug  of  the 
shoulders. 

"  He  calls  himself  God's  sword  of  vengeance,  but  he  is 
nothing  more  than  a  weak  tool,  which  we  bend  and  use  at 
our  will,"  muttered  Wriothesley,  with  a  hoarse  laugh.  "  Poor, 
pitiful  fool,  deeming  himself  so  mighty  and  sturdy  ;  imagin- 
ing himself  a  free  king,  ruling  by  his  sovereign  will  alone,  and 
yet  he  is  but  our  servant  and  drudge  !  Our  great  work  is  ap- 
proaching its  end,  and  we  shall  one  day  triumph.  Anne 
Askew's  death  is  the  sign  of  a  new  covenant,  which  will  de- 
liver England  and  trample  the  heretics  like  dust  beneath  our 
feet.  And  when  at  length  we  shall  have  put  down  Cranmer, 
and  brought  Catharine  Parr  to  the  scaffold,  then  will  we  give 
King  Henry  a  queen  who  will  reconcile  him  with  God  and  the 
Church,  out  of  which  is  no  salvation." 

"  Amen,  so  be  it !  "  said  Gardiner  ;  and  arm  in  arm  they 
both  left  the  cabinet. 

Deep  stillness  now  reigned  in  that  little  spot,  and  nobody 
saw  John  Heywood  as  he  now  came  from  behind  the  hanging, 
and,  completely  worn  out  and  faint,  slipped  for  a  moment  into 
a  chair. 

"  Now  I  know,  so  far  at  least,  the  plan  of  these  blood- 
thirsty tiger-cats,"  muttered  he.  "  They  wish,to  give  Henry 
a  popish  queen ;  and  so  Cranmer  must  be  overthrown,  that, 
when  they  have  deprived  the  queen  of  this  powerful  prop,  they 
may  destroy  her  also  and  tread  her  in  the  dust.  But  as  God 
liveth,  they  shall  not  succeed  in  this  !  God  ia  just,  and  He 
will  at  last  punish  these  evil-doers.  And  supposing  there  is 
no  God,  then  will  we  try  a  little  with  the  devil  himself.  No, 
they  shall  not  destroy  the  noble  Cranmer  and  this  beautiful, 


140  HENEY    Vm.    AND   HIS    COTJET. 

high-minded  queen.  I  forbid  it — I,  John  Heywood,  the  king's 
fool.  I  will  see  every  thing,  observe  every  thing,  hear  every 
thing.  They  shall  find  me  everywhere  on  their  path  ;  and 
when  they  poison  the  king's  ear  with  their  diabolical  whisper- 
ings, I  will  heal  it  again  with  my  merry  deviltries.  The 
king's  fool  will  be  the  guardian  angel  of  the  queen." 


CHAPTER  .KV. 

JOHN    HEYWOOD. 

AFTEK  so  much  care  and  excitement,  the  king  needed  an 
hour  of  recreation  and  amusement.  Since  the  fair  young  queen 
was  seeking  these  far  away  in  the  chase,  and  amid  the  beauties 
of  Nature,  Henry  must,  no  doubt,  be  content  to  seek  them  for 
himself,  and  in  a  way  different  from  the  queen's.  His  unwield- 
iness  and  his  load  of  flesh  prevented  him  from  pursuing  the 
joys  of  life  beyond  his  own  halls  ;  so  the  lords  and  ladies  of 
his  court  had  to  bring  them  hither  to  him,  and  station  the 
flitting  goddess  of  Joy,  with  her  wings  fettered,  in  front  of 
the  king's  trundle-chair. 

The  gout  had  that  day  again  overcome  that  mighty  king 
of  earth ;  and  a  heavy,  grotesque  mass  it  was  which  sat 
there  in  the  elbow-chair. 

But  the  courtiers  still  called  him  a  fine-looking  and  fas- 
cinating man  ;  and  the  ladies  still  smiled  on  him  and. said,  by 
their  sighs  and  by  their  looks,  that  they  loved  him ;  that  he 
was  ever  to  them  the  same  handsome  and  captivating  man  that 
he  was  twenty  years  before,  when  yet  young,  fine-looking,  and 
slim.  How  they  smile  upon  him,  and  ogle  him !  How  Lady 
Jane,  the  maiden  otherwise  so  haughty  and  so  chaste,  does 
wish  to  ensnare  him  with  her  bright  eyes  as  with  a  net !  How 
bewitchingly  does  the  Duchess  of  Richmond,  that  fair  and  vo- 
luptuous woman,  laugh  at  the  king's  merry  jests  and  double 
entendres  ! 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET.  14:1 

Poor  king !  whose  corpulency  forbids  him  to  dance  as  he 
once  had  done  with  so  much  pleasure  and  so  much  dexterity  ! 
Poor  king !  whose  age  forbids  him  to  sing  as  once  he  had  done 
to  the  delight  both  of  the  court  and  himself! 

But  there  are  yet,  however,  pleasant,  precious,  joyous  hours, 
when  the  man  revives  some  little  in  the  king ;  when  even  youth 
once  more  again  awakes  within  him,  and  smiles  in  a  few  dear? 
blessed  pleasures. 

The  king  still  has  at  least  eyes  to  perceive  beauty,  and  a 
heart  to  feel  it. 

How  beautiful  Lady  Jane  is,  this  white  lily  with  the  dark, 
star-like  eyes  !  How  beautiful  Lady  Richmond,  this  full-blown 
red  rose  with  the  pearl-white  teeth ! 

And  they  both  smile  at  him  ;  and  when  the  king  swears  he 
loves  them,  they  bashfully  cast  down  their  eyes  and  sigh. 
"  Do  you  sigh,  Jane,  because  you  love  me?  " 
"  Oh,  sire,  you  mock  me.     It  would  be  a  sin  for  me  to  love 
you,  for  Queen  Catharine  is  living." 

"Yes,  she  is  living!"  muttered  the  king;  and  his  brow 
darkened  ;  and  for  a  moment  the  smile  disappeared  from  his 
lips. 

Lady  Jane  had  committed  a  mistake.  She  had  reminded 
the  king  of  his  wife  when  it  was  yet  too  soon  to  ask  for  her 
death. 

John  Heywood  read  this  in  the  countenance  of  his  royal 
master,  and  resolved  to  take  advantage  of  it.  He  wished  to 
divert  the  attention  of  the  king,  and  to  draw  it  away  from  the 
beautiful,  captivating  women  who  were  juggling  him  with 
their  bewitching  charms. 

"Yes,  the  queen  lives!"  said  he, joyfully,  "and  God  bo 
praised  for  it !  For  how  tedious  and  dull  it  would  be  at  this 
court  had  we  not  our  fair  queen,  who  is  as  wise  as  Methuselah, 
and  innocent  and  good  as  a  new-born  babe !  Do  you  not, 
Lady  Jane,  say  with  me,  God  bo  praised  that  Queen  Catharine 
is  living  ?  " 

"  I  say  so  with  you !  "  said  Jane,  with  ill-concealed  vexa- 
tion. 


142  HENBY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

"  And  you,  King  Henry,  do  you  not  say  it  too  ?  "     • 

"  Of  course,  fool !  " 

"Ah,  why  am  I  not  King  Henry?  "  sighed  John  Heywood. 
"  King,  I  envy  you,  not  your  crown,  or  your  royal  mantle ; 
not  your  attendants  or  your  money.  I  envy  you  only  this, 
that  you  can  say,  '  God  be  praised  that  my  wife  is  still  alive  ! ' 
while  I  never  know  but  one  phrase,  '  God  have  pity,  my  wife 
is  still  alive  ! '  Ah,  it  is  very  seldom,  king,  that  I  have  heard 
a  married  man  speak  otherwise  !  You  are  in  that  too,  as  in  all 
things  else,  an  exception,  King  Henry ;  and  yonr  people  have 
never  loved  you  more  warmly  and  purely  than  when  you  say, 
'  I  thank  God  that  my  consort  is  alive  ! '  Believe  me,  you  are 
perhaps  the  only  man  at  your  court  who  speaks  after  this  man-- 
ner,  however  ready  they  may  be  to  be  your  parrots,  and  re- 
echo what  the  lord  high-priest  says." 

"  The  only  man  that  loves  his  wife  ?  "  said  Lady  Richmond. 
"  Behold  now  the  rude  babbler  !  Do  you  not  believe,  then,  that 
we  women  deserve  to  be  loved  ?  " 

"  I  am  convinced  that  you  do  not." 

"  And  for  what  do  you  take  us,  then  ?  " 

"  For  cats,  which  God,  since  He  had  no  more  cat-skin, 
stuck  into  a  smooth  hide  !  " 

"  Take  care,  John,  that  we  do  not  show  you  our  claws ! " 
cried  the  duchess,  laughing. 

"  Do  it  anyhow,  my  lady  !  I  will  then  make  a  cross,  and 
ye  will  disappear.  For  -devils,  you  well  know,  cannot  endure 
the  sight  of  the  holy  cross,  and  ye  are  devils." 

John  Heywood,  who  was  a  remarkably  fine  singer,  seized 
the  mandolin,  which  lay  near  him,  and  began  to  sing. 

It  was  a  song,  possible  only  in  those  days,  and  at  Henry's 
voluptuous  and  at  the  same  time  canting  court — a  song  full 
of  the  most  wanton  allusions,  of  the  most  cutting  jests  against 
both  monks  and  women ;  a  song  which  made  Henry  laugh, 
and  the  ladies  blush  ;  and  in  which  John  Heywood  had  poured 
forth  in  glowing  dithyrambics  all  his  secret  indignation  against 
Gardiner,  the  sneaking  hypocrite  of  a  priest,  and  against  Lady 
Jane,  the  queen's  false  and  treacherous  friend. 


HENEY   Vm.'  AND   HIS   COUKT.  143 

But  the  ladies  laughed  not.  They  darted  flashing  glances 
at  John  Heywood ;  and  Lady  Richmond  earnestly  and  reso- 
lutely demanded  the  punishment  of  the  perfidious  wretch  who 
dared  to  defame  woman. 

The  king  laughed  still  harder.  The  rage  of  the  ladies  was 
so  exceedingly  amusing. 

"  Sire,"  said  the  beautiful  Richmond,  "  he  has  insulted  not 
us,  but  the  whole  sex ;  and  in  the  name  of  our  sex,  I  demand 
revenge  for  the  affront." 

"  Yes,  revenge  ! "  cried  Lady  Jane,  hotly. 

"  Revenge  !  "  repeated  the  rest  of  the  ladies. 

"  See,  now,  what  pious  and  gentle-hearted  doves  ye  are  ! " 
cried  John  Heywood. 

The  king  said,  laughingly :  "-Well,  now,  you  shall  have 
your  will — you  shall  chastise  him." 

"  Yes,  yes,  scourge  me  with  rods,  as  they  once  scourged 
the  Messiah,  because  He  told  the  Pharisees  the  truth.  See 
here  !  I  am  already  putting  on  the  crown  of  thorns." 

He  took  the  king's  velvet  cap  with  solemn  air,  and  put 
it  on. 

"  Yes,  whip  him,  whip  him ! "  cried  the  king,  laughing,  as 
he  pointed  to  the  gigantic  vases  of  Chinese  porcelain,  contain- 
ing enormous  bunches  of  roses,  on  whose  long  stems  arose  a 
real  forest  of  formidable-looking  thorns. 

"  Pull  the  large  bouquets  to  pieces  ;  take  the  roses  in  your 
hand,  and  whip  him  with  the  stems  ! "  said  the  king,  and  his 
eyes  glistened  with  inhuman  delight,  for  the  scene  promised  to 
be  quite  interesting.  The  rose-stems  were  long  and  hard,  and 
the  thorns  on  them  pointed  and  sharp  as  daggers.  How 
nicely  they  would  pierce  the  flesh,  and  how  he  would  yell  and 
screw  his  face,  the  good-natured  fool ! 

"Yes,  yes,  let  him  take  off  hia  coat,  and  we  will  whip 
him ! "  cried  the  Duehcss  of  Richmond ;  and  the  women,  all 
joining  in  the  cry,  rushed  like  furies  upon  John  Heywood,  and 
forced  him  to  lay  aside  his  silk  upper  garment.  Then  they 
hurried  to  the  vases,  snatched  out  the  bouquets,  and  with  busy 


144:  HENRY   VEH.    AJSD   HIS   COUET. 

hands  picked  out  the  longest  and  stoutest  stems.  And  loud 
were  their  exclamations  of  satisfaction,  if  the  thorns  were  right 
large  and  sharp,  such  as  would  penetrate  the  flesh  of  the 
offender  right  deeply. 

The  king's  laughter  and  shouts  of  approval  animated  them 
more  and  more,  and  made  them  more  excited  and  furious. 
Their  cheeks  glowed,  their  eyes  glared-;  they  resembled 
Bacchantes  circling  the  god  of  riotous  joviality  with  their  shouts 
of  "  Evoe !  evoe  ! " 

"  Not  yet !  do  not  strike  yet !  "  cried  the  king.  "  You  must 
first  strengthen  yourselves  for  the  exertion,  and  fire  your  arms 
for  a  powerful  blow !" 

He  took  the  large  golden  beaker  which  stood  before  him 
and,  tasting  it,  presented  it  to  Lady  Jane. 

."  Drink,  my  lady,  drink,  that  your  arm  may  be  strong !  " 

And  they  all  drank,  and  with  animated  smiles  pressed 
their  lips  on  the  spot  which  the  king's  mouth  had  touched. 
And  now  their  eyes  had  a  brighter  flame,  and  their  cheeks  a 
more  fiery  glow. 

A  strange  and  exciting  sight  it  was,  to  see  those  beautiful 
women  burning  with  malicious  joy  and  thirst  for  vengeance, 
who  for  the  moment  had  laid  aside  all  their  elegant  attitudes, 
their  lofty  and  haughty  airs,  to  transform  themselves  into 
wanton  Bacchantes,  bent  on  chastising  the  offender,  who  had 
so  often  and  so  bitterly  lashed  them  all  with  his  tongue. 

"  Ah  I  would  a  painter  were  here  !  "  said  the  king.  "  He 
should  paint  us  a  picture  of  the  chaste  nymphs  of  Diana  pur- 
suing Actaeon.  You  are  Actseon,  John ! " 

"  But  they  are  not  the  chaste  nymphs,  king ;  no,  far  from 
it,"  cried  Heywood,  laughing,  "  and  between  these  fair  women 
and  Diana  I  find  no  resemblance,  but  only  a  difference." 

"And  in  what  consists  the  difference,  John?" 

"  Herein,  sire,  that  Diana  carried  her  horn  at  her  side ; 
but  these  fair  ladies  make  their  husbands  wear  their  horns  ou 
the  forehead ! " 

A  loud  peal  ot  laughter  from  the  gentlemen,  a  yell  of  rage 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  145 

from  the  ladies,  was  the  reply  of  this  new  epigram  of  John 
Heywood. 

They  arranged  themselves  in  two  rows,  and  thus  formed  a 
lane  through  which  John  Heywood  had  to  pass. 

"Come,  John  Heywood,  come  and  receive  your  punish- 
ment ; "  and  they  raised  their  thorny  rods  threateningly,  and 
flourished  them  with  angry  gestures  high  above  their  heads. 

The  scene  was  becoming  to  John  in  all  respects  very 
piquant,  for  these  rods  had  very  sharp  thorns,  and  only  a  thin 
linen  shirt  covered  his  back. 

With  bold  step,  however,  he  approached  the  fatal  passage 
through  which  he  was  to  pass. 

Already  he  beheld  the  rods  drawn  back  ;  and  it  seemed  to 
him  as  if  the  thorns  were  even  now  piercing  his  back. 

He  halted,  and  turned  with  a  laugh  to  the  king.  "  Sire, 
since  you  have  condemned  me  to  die  by  the  hands  of  these 
nymphs,  I  claim  the  right  of  every  condemned  criminal — a 
last  favor." 

"  The  which  we  grant  you,  John." 

"  I  demand  that  I  may  put  on  these  fair  women  one  condi- 
tion— one  condition  on  which  they  may  whip  me.  Does  your 
majesty  grant  me  this?" 

"I  grant  it!" 

"  And  you  solemnly  pledge  me  the  word  of  a  king  that  this 
condition  shall  be  faithfully  kept  and  fulfilled?" 

"  My  solemn,  kingly  word  for  it ! " 

"  Now,  then,"  said  John  Heywood,  as  he  entered  the  pas- 
sage, "  now,  then,  my  ladies,  my  condition  is  this :  that  ono 
of  you  who  has  had  the  most  lovers,  and  has  oftcnest  decked  her 
husband's  head  with  horns,  let  her  lay  the  first  stroke  on  my 
back."  * 

A  deep  silence  followed.  The  raised  arms  of  the  fair 
women  sank.  The  rosca  fell  from  their  hands  and  dropped  to 
the  ground.  Just  before  so  bloodthirsty  ami  revengeful,  they 
seemed  now  to  have  become  the  softest  and  gentlest  of  beings. 

*  Flogel'» "  Goechlcbto  dor  Hofnarrcn,"  j>ago  899. 

7 


146  HESTRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   CODET. 

• 

But  could  their  looks  have  killed,  their  fire  certainly  would 
have  consumed  poor  John  Heywood,  who  now  gazed  at  them 
with  an  insolent  sneer,  and  advanced  into  the  very  midst  of 
their  lines. 

"  Now,  my  ladies,  you  strike  him  not  ?  "  asked  the  king. 

"  No,  your  majesty,  we  despise  him  too  much  even  to 
wish  to  chastise  Mm,"  said  the  Duchess  of  Richmond. 

"  Shall  your  enemy  who  has  injured  you  go  thus  unpun- 
ished? "  asked  the  king.  "  No,  no,  my  ladies  ;  it  shall  not  be 
said  that  there  is  a  man  in  my  kingdom  whom  I  have  let 
escape  when  so  richly  deserving  punishment.  We  will,  there- 
fore, impose  some  other  punishment  on  him.  He  calls  him- 
self a  poet,  and  has  often  boasted  that  he  could  make  his  pen 
fly  as  fast  as  his  tongue  !  Now,  then,  John,  show  us  in  this 
manner  that  you  are  no  liar  !  I  command  you  to  write,  fov 
the  great  court  festival  which  takes  place  in  a  few  days,  a 
new  interlude  ;  and  one  indeed,  hear  you,  John,  which  is  cal- 
culated to  make  the  greatest  growler  merry,  and  over  which 
these  ladies  will  be  forced  to  laugh  so  heartily,  that  they  will 
forget  all  their  ire  !  " 

"  Oh,"  said  John  dolefully,  "  what  an  equivocal  and  lewd 
poem  it  must  be  to  please  these  ladies  and  make  them  laugh ! 
My  king,  we  must,  then,  to  please  these  dear  ladies,  forget 
a  little  our  chastity,  modesty,  and  maiden  bashfulness,  and 
speak  in  the  spirit  of  the  ladies — 'that  is  to  say,  as  lasciviously 
as  possible." 

"  You  are  a  wretch !  "  said  Lady  Jane  ;  "  a  vulgar  hyp- 
ocritical fool." 

"  Earl  Douglas,  your  daughter  is  speaking  to  you,"  said 
John  Heywood,  calmly.  "  She  flatters  you  much,  your  tender 
daughter." 

"  Now  then,  John,  you  have  heard  my  orders,  and  will  you 
obey  them  ?  In  four  days  will  this  festival  begin  ;  I  give  you 
two  days  more.  In  six  days,  then,  you  have  to  write  a  new 
interlude.  And  if  he  fails  to  do  it,  my  ladies,  you;  shall  whip 
him  until  you  bring  the  blood  ;  and  that  without  any  condi- 
tion." 


HENBY   VIII.   AND   HIS    COURT.  147 

Just  then  was  heard  without  a  flourish  of  trumpets  and  the 
clatter  of  horse-hoofs. 

"  The  queen  has  returned,"  said  John  Heywood,  with  a 
countenance  beaming  with  joy,  as  he  fixed  his  smiling  gaze  full 
of  mischievous  satisfaction  on  Lady  Jane.  "  Nothing  further 
now  remains  for  you  to  do,  but  dutifully  to  meet  your  mistress 
upon  the  great  staircase,  for,  as  you  so  wisely  said  before,  the 
queen  still  lives" 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  John  Heywood  ran  out 
and  rushed  through  the  anteroom  and  down  the  steps  to  meet 
the  queen.  Lady  Jane  watched  him  with  a  dark,  angry  look  ; 
and  as  she  turned  slowly  to  the  door  to  go  and  meet  the  queen, 
she  muttered  low  between  her  closely-pressed  lips :  "  The 
fool  must  die,  for  he  is  the  queen's  friend  !  " 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE    CONFIDANT. 

THE  queen  was  just  ascending  the  steps  of  the  great  pub- 
lic staircase,  and  she  greeted  John  Heywood  with  a  friendly 
smile. 

u  My  lady,"  said  he  aloud,  "  I  have  a  few  words  in  pri- 
vate to  say  to  you,  in  the  name  of  his  majesty." 

"  Words  in  private  !  "  repeated  Catharine,  as  she  stopped 
upon  the  terrace  of  the  palace.  "  Well,  then,  fall  back,  my 
lords  and  ladies  ;  we  wish  to  receive  liis  majesty's  mysterious 
message." 

The  royal  train  silently  and  respectfully  withdrew  into  the 
large  anteroom  of  the  palace,  while  the  queen  remained  alone 
with  John  Heywood  on  the  terrace. 

*'  Now,  speak,  John." 

"  Queen,  heed  well  my  words,  and  grave  them  deep  on 
your  memory  !  A  conspiracy  is  forged  against  you,  and  in  a 
few  days,  at  the  great  festival,  it  will  bo  ripe  for  execution. 


148  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

Guard  well,  therefore,  every  word  you  utter,  ay,  even  your 
very  thoughts.  Beware  of  every  dangerous  step,  for  you  may 
be  certain  that  a  listener  stands  behind  you !  .  And  if  you 
need  a  confidant,  confide  in  no  one  but  me  !  I  tell  you,  a  great 
danger  lies  before  you,  and  only  by  prudence  and  presence  of 
mind  will  you  be  able  to  avoid  it." 

This  time  the  queen  did  not  laugh  at  her  friend's  warning 
voice.  She  was  serious  ;  she  even  trembled. 

She  had  lost  her  proud  sense  of  security  and  her  serene 
confidence — she  was  no  longer  guiltless — she  had  a  dangerous 
secret  to  keep,  consequently  she  felt  a  dread  of  discovery ; 
and  she  trembled  not  merely  for  herself,  but  also  for  him 
whom  she  loved. 

"And  in  what  consists  this  plot?"  asked  she,  with  agita- 
tion. 

"  I  do  not  yet  understand  it ;  I  only  know  that  it  exists. 
But  I  will  search  it  out,  and  if  your  enemies  lurk  about  you 
with  watchful  eyes,  well,  then,  I  will  have  spying  eyes  to  ob- 
serve them." 

"  And  is  it  I  alone  that  they  threaten?  " 

"  No,  queen,  your  friend  also." 

Catharine  trembled.     "  What  friend,  John?" 

"  Archbishop  Cranmer." 

"  Ah,  the  archbishop  !  "  replied  she.  drawing  a  deep  breath. 

"  And  is  he  all,  John?  Does  their  enmity  pursue  only  me 
and  him  ?  " 

"  Only  you  two  !  "  said  John  Pie y wood,  sadly,  for  he  had 
fully  understood  the  queen's  sigh  of  relief,  and  he  knew  that 
she  had  trembled  for  another.  But  remember,  queen,  that 
Cranmer's  destruction  would  be  likewise  your  own  ;  and  that 
as  you  protect  the  archbishop,  he  also  will  protect  you  with 
the  king — you,  queen,  a-nd  your  friends." 

Catharine  gave  a  slight  start,  and  the  crimson  on  her 
cheek  grew  deeper. 

"  I  shall  always  be  mindful  of  that,  and  ever  be  a  true  and 
real  friend  to  him  and  to  you  ;  for  you  two  are  my  only  friends  ; 
is  it  not  so  ?  " 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  149 

"  No,  your  majesty,  I  spoke  to  you  of  yet  a  third,  of 
Thomas  Seymour." 

"  Oh,  he  !  "  cried  she  with  a  sweet  smile.  Then  she  said 
suddenly,  and  in  a  low  quick  voice  :  "  You  say  I  must  trust  no 
one  here  but  you.  Now,  then,  I  will  give  you  a  proof  of  my 
confidence.  Await  me  in  the  green  summer-house  at  twelve 
o'clock  to  night.  You  must  be  my  attendant  on  a  dangerous 
excursion.  Have  you  courage,  John  ?  " 

"  Courage  to  lay  down  my  life  for  you,  queen  !  " 

"  Come,  then,  but  bring  your  weapon  with  you." 

"  At  your  command  !  and  is  that  your  only  order  for  to- 
day?" 

"  That  is  all,  John  !  only,"  added  she,  with  hesitation  and 
a  slight  blush,  "  only,  if  you  perchance  meet  Earl  Sudley,  you 
may  say  to  him  that  I  charged  you  to  greet  him  in  my  name." 

"  Oh  !  "  sighed  John  Heywood,  sadly. 

"  He  has  to-day  saved  my  life,  John,"  said  she,  as  if  excu- 
sing herself.  "  It  becomes  me  well,  then,  to  be  grateful  to 
him." 

And  giving  him  a  friendly  nod,  she  stepped  into  the  porch 
of  the  castle. 

"  Now  let  anybody  say  again,  that  chance  is  not  the  most 
mischievous  and  spiteful  of  all  devils !  "  muttered  John  Hey- 
wood. "  This  devil,  chance,  throws  in  the  queen's  way  the 
very  person  she.  ought  most  to  avoid  ;  and  she  must  be,  as  in 
duty  bound,  very  grateful  to  a  lover.  Oh,  oh,  so  he  has  saved 
her  life  ?  But  who  knows  whether  ho  may  not  be  one  day  the 
cause  of  her  losing  it !  " 

lie  dropped  his  head  gloomily  upon  his  breast,  when  sud- 
denly he  heard  behind  him  a  low  voice  calling  his  name  ;  and 
as  he  turned,  he  saw  the  young  Princess  Elizabeth  hastening 
toward  him  with  hurried  step.  * 

She  was  at  that  moment  very  beautiful.  Her  eyes  gleamed 
with  the  fire  of  passion ;  her  cheeks  glowed ;  and  about  her 
crimson  lips  there  played  a  gentle,  happy  smile.  She  wore, 
according  to  the  fashion  of  the  time,  a  close-fitting  high-necked 


150  HENBY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

dress,  which  showed  off  to  perfection  the  delicate  lines  of  hei 
slender  &nd  youthful  form,  while  the  wide  standing  collar  con- 
cealed the  somewhat  too  great  length  of  her  neck,  and  made 
her  ruddy,  as  yet  almost  childish  face  stand  out  as  it  were 
from  a  pedestal.  On  either  side  of  her  high,  thoughtful  brow, 
fell,  in  luxurious  profusion,  light  flaxen  curls  ;  her  head  was 
covered  with  a  black  velvet  cap,  from  which  a  white  feather 
drooped  to  her  shoulders. 

She  was  altogether  a  charming  and  lovely  apparition,  full 
of  nobleness  and  grace,  full  of  fire  and  energy ;  and  yet,  in  spite 
of  her  youthfulness,  not  wanting  in  a  certain  grandeur  and 
dignity.  Elizabeth,  though  still  almost  a  child,  and  frequently 
bowed  and  humbled  by  misfortune,  yet  ever  remained  her 
father's  own  daughter.  And  though  Henry  had  declared 
her  a  bastard  and  excluded  her  from  the  succession  to  the 
throne,  yet  she  bore  the  stamp  of  her  royal  blood  in  her  high, 
haughty  brow  ;  in  her  keen,  flashing  eye. 

As  she  now  stood  before  John  Hey  wood,  she  was  not,  how- 
ever, the  haughty,  imperious  princess,  but  merely  the  shy, 
blushing  maiden,  who  feared  to  trust  her  first  girlish  secret  to 
another's  ear,  and  ventured  only  with  trembling  hand  to  draw 
aside  the  veil  which  concealed  her  heart. 

"  John  Heywood,"  said  she,  "  you  have  often  told  me  that 
you  loved  me  ;  and  I  know  that  my  poor  unfortunate  mother 
trusted  you,  and  summoned  you  as  a  witness  of  her  innocence. 
You  could  not  at  that  time  save  the  mother,  but  will  you  now 
serve  Anne  Boleyn's  daughter,  and  be  her  faithful  friend  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  said  Heywood,  solemnly,  "  and  as  true  as  there 
is  a  God  above  us,  you  shall  never  find  me  a  traitor." 

"I  believe  you,  John;  I  know;  that  I  may  trust  you. 
Listen  then,  I  will  now  tell  you  my  secret — a  secret  which  no 
one  but  God  knowa$  and  the  betrayal  of  which  might  bring  me 
to  the  scaffold.  Will  yi»H  then  swear  to  me,  that  you  will 
never,  under  any  pretext,  and  from  any  motive  whatsoever, 
betray  to  anybody,  so  much  as  a  single  word  of  what  I  am 
Qow  about  to  tell  you  ?  Will  you  swear  to  me,  never  to  in- 


HENKY   Vin.  'AND   HIS   COTJKT.  151 

trust  this  secret  to  any  one,  even  on  your  death-bed,  and  not 
to  betray  it  even  in  the  confessional  ?  " 

"Now  as  regards  that,  princess,"  said  John,  with  a  laugh, 
"  you  are  perfectly  safe.  I  never  go  to  confession,  for  con- 
fession is  a  highly-spiced  dish  of  popery  on  which  I  long  since 
spoilt  my  stomach ;  and  as  concerns  my  death-bed,  one  can- 
not, under  the  blessed  and  pious  reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  al- 
together know  whether  he  will  be  really  a  participant  of  any 
thing  of  the  kind,  or  whether  he  may  not  make  a  far  more 
speedy  and  convenient  trip  into  eternity  by  the  aid  of  the  hang- 
man." 

"  Oh,  be  serious,  John — do,  I  pray  you  !  Let  the  fool's 
mask,  under  which  you  hide  your  sober  and  honest  face,  not 
hide  it  from  me  also.  Be  serious,  John,  and  swear  to  me 
that  you  will  keep  my  secret." 

"  Well,  then,  I  swear,  princess  ;  I  swear  by  your  mother's 
spirit  to  betray  not  a  word  of  what  you  are  going  to  tell  me." 

"  I  thank  you,  John.  Now  lean  this  way  nearer  to  me, 
lest  the  breeze  may  catch  a  single  word  of  mine  and  bear  it 
farther.  John,  I  love  !  " 

She  saw  the  half-surprised,  half-incredulous  smile  which 
played  around  John  Heywood's  lips.  "  Oh,"  continued  she, 
passionately,  "  you  believe  me  not.  You  consider  my  fourteen 
years,  and  you. think  the  child  knows  nothing  yet  of  a  maiden's 
feelings.  But  remember,  John,  that  those  girls  who  live  under 
a  warm  stin  are  early  ripened  by  his  glowing  rays,  and  are 
already  wives  and  mothers  when  they  should  still  be  dreaming 
c'hildrcn.  Well,  now,  I  too,  am  the  daughter  of  a  torrid  zone, 
only  mine  has  not  been  the  sun  of  prosperity,  and  it  has  been 
sorrow  and  misfortune  which  have  matured  my  heart.  Be- 
lieve me,  John,  I  love !  A  glowing,  consuming  fire  rages 
within  me  ;  it  is  at  once  my  delight  and  my  misery,  my  happi- 
ness and  my  future. 

44  The  king  has  robbed  me  of  a  brilliant  and  glorious  future  ; 
let  them  not,  then,  grudge  me  a  happy  one,  at  least.  Since  I 
am  never  to  be  a  queen,  I  will  at  least  bo  a  happy  and  beloved 


152  HENET   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

• 

wife.  If  I  am  condemned  to  live  in  obscurity  and  lowliness,  at 
the  very  least,  I  must  not  be  prohibited  from  adorning  this  ob- 
scure and  inglorious  existence  with  flowers,  which .  thrive  not 
at  the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  to  illuminate  it  with  stars  more 
sparkling  than  the  refulgence  of  the  most  radiant  kingly 
crown." 

"  Oh,  you  are  mistaken  about  your  own  self! "  said  John 
Heywood,  sorrowfully.  "  You  choose  the  one  only  because 
the  other  is  denied.  You  would  love  only  because  you  cannot 
rule  ;  and  since  your  heart,  which  thirsts  for  fame  and  honor, 
can  find  no  other  satisfaction,  you  would  quench  its  thirst  with 
some  other  draught,  and  would  administer  love  as  an  opiate 
to  lull  to  rest  its  burning  pains.  Believe  me,  princess,  you  do 
not  yet  know  yourself!  You  were  not  born  to  be  merely  a 
loving  wife,  and  your  brow  is  much  too  high  and  haughty  to 
wear  only  a  crown  of  myrtle.  Therefore,  consider  well  what 
you  do,  princess  !  Be  not  carried  away  by  your  father's  pas- 
sionate blood,  which  boils  in  your  veins  also.  Think  well  be- 
fore you  act.  Your  foot  is  yet  on  one  of  the  steps  to  the  throne. 
Draw  it  not  back  voluntarily.  Maintain  your  position  ;  then, 
the  next  step  brings  you  again  one  stair  higher  up.  Do  not 
voluntarily  renounce  your  just  claim,  but  abide  in  patience  the 
coming  of  the  day  of  retribution  and  justice.  Only  do  not 
yourself  make  it  impossible,  that  there  may  then  be  a  full  and 
glorious  reparation.  Princess  Elizabeth  may  yet  one  day  be 
queen,  provided  she  has  not  exchanged  her  name  for  one  less 
glorious  and  noble." 

"  John  Heywood,"  said  she,  with  a  bewitching  smile,  "  I 
have  told  you,  I  love  him." 

"  "Well,  love  him  as  much  as  you  please,  but  do  it  in  silence, 
and  tell  him  not  of  it ;  but  teach  your  love  resignation." 

"  John,  he  knows  it  already." 

"  Ah,  poor  princess  !  you  are  still  but  a  child,  that  sticks 
its  hands  in  the  fire  with  smiling  bravery  and  scorches  them, 
because  it  knows  not  that  fire  burns." 

"  Let  it  burn,  John,  burn  !  and  let  the  flames  curl  over  my 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTJKT.  153 

head  !  Better  be  consumed  in  fire  than  perish  slowly  and  hor- 
ribly with  a  deadly  chill !  I  love  him,  I  tell  you,  and  he  al- 
ready knov/s  it ! " 

"  Well,  then,  love  him,  but,  at  least,  do  not  marry  him ! " 
cried  John  Heywood,  surlily. 

"  Marry  ! "  cried  she,  with  astonishment.  "  Marry  !  I  had 
never  thought  of  it." 

She  dropped  her  head  upon  her  breast,  and  stood  there,  si- 
lent and  thoughtful. 

"  I  am  much  afraid  I  made  a  blunder,  then  ! "  muttered 
John  Heywood.  "  I  have  suggested  a  new  thought  to  her. 
Ah,  ah,  King  Henry  has  done  well  in  appointing  me  his  fool ! 
Just  when  we  deem  ourselves  the  wisest,  we  are  the  greatest 
fools!" 

"  John,"  said  Elizabeth,  as  she  raised  her  head  again  and 
smiled  to  him  in  a  glow  of  excitement,  "  John,  you  are  entire- 
ly right ;  if  we  love,  we  must  marry." 

"  But  I  said  just  the  contrary,  princess  ! " 

"  All  right ! "  said  she,  resolutely.  "  All  this  belongs  to 
the  future  ;  we  will  busy  ourselves  with  the  present.  I  have 
promised  my  lover  an  interview." 

"  An  interview ! "  cried  John  Heywood,  in  amazement. 
"  You  will  not  bo  so  foolhardy  as  to  keep  your  promise?  " 

"  John  Heywood,"  said  she,  with  an  air  of  approaching  so- 
lemnity, "  King  Henry's  daughter  will  never  make  a  promise 
without  fulfilling  it.  For  better  or  for  worse,  I  will  always 
keep  my  plighted  word,  even  if  the  greatest  misery  and  ruin 
were  the  result !  " 

John  IJeywood  ventured  to  offer  no  further  opposition. 
There  was  at  this  moment  something  peculiarly  lofty,  proud, 
and  truly  royal  in  her  air,  which  impressed  him  with  awe, 
and  before  which  he  bowed. 

"  I  have  granted  him  an  interview  because  he  wished  it," 

Mild  Kli/;il)cth  ;  '•  and,  John,  I  will  confess  it  to  you,  my  own 

heart  longed  lor  it.     Seek   not,  then,  to  shukc  my  resolution; 

it  is  as  firm  as  a  rock.     But  if  you  are  not  willing  to  stand  by 

7* 


154:  HENRY    VIII.    AND    HIS    COUET. 

me,  say  so,  and  I  will  then  look  about  me  for  another  friend, 
who  loves  me  enough  to  impose  silence  on  his  thoughts." 

"  But  who,  perhaps,  will  go  and  betray  you.  No,  no,  it 
has  been  once  resolved  upon,  and  unalterably ;  so  no  one  but 
I  must  be  your  confidant.  Tell  me,  then,  what  I  am  to  do, 
and  I  will  obey  you." 

"You  know,  John,  that  my  apartments  are  situated  in 
yonder  wing,  overlooking  the  garden.  Well,  in  my  dressing- 
room,  behind  one  of  the  large  wall  pictures,  I  have  discovered 
a  door  leading  into  a  lonely,  dark  corridor.  From  this  corri- 
dor there  is  a  passage  up  into  yonder  tower.  It  is  unoccupied 
and  deserted.  Nobody  ever  thinks  of  entering  that  part  of  the 
castle,  and  the  quiet  of  the  grave  reigns  throughout  those 
apartments,  which  nevertheless  are  furnished  with  a  magnifi- 
cence truly  regal.  There  will  I  receive  him." 

"  But  how  shall  he  make  his  way  thither?  " 

"  Oh,  do  not  be  concerned ;  I  have  thought  over  that  many 
days  since  :  and  while  I  was  refusing  my  lover  the  interview 
for  which  he  again  and  again  implored  me,  I  was  quietly  pre- 
paring every  thing  so  as  to  be  able  one  day  to  grant.it  to  him. 
To-day  this  object  is  attained,  and  to-day  have  I  fulfilled  his 
wish,  voluntarily  and  unasked ;  for  I  saw  he  had  no  more 
courage  to  ask  again.  Listen,  then.  From  the  tower,  a  spi- 
ral staircase  leads  down  to  a  small  door,  through  which  you 
gain  entrance  into  the  garden.  I  have  a  key  to  this  door. 
Here  it  is.  Once  in  possession  of  this  key,  he  has  nothing 
further  to  do  but  remain  behind  in  the  park  this  evening,  in- 
stead of  leaving  the  castle  ;  and  by  means  of  this  he  will  come 
to  me,  for  I  will  wait  for  him  in  the  tower,  in  the  large  room 
directly  opposite  the  staircase  landing.  Here,  take  the  key  ; 
give  it  to  him,  and  repeat  to  him  all  that  I  have  said." 

"  Well,  princess,  there  remains  for  you  now  only  to  ap- 
point the  hour  at  which  you  will  receive  him  there." 

"  The  hour,"  said  she,  as  she  turned  away  her  blushing 
face.  "  You  understand,  John,  that  it  is  not  feasible  to  receive 
him  there  by  day,  because  there  is  by  day  not  a  single  moment 
in  which  I  am  not  watched." 


HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COTJKT.  155 

"  You  will  then  receive  him  by  night !  "  said  Johu  Hey- 
wood,  sadly.  "  At  what  hour  ?  " 

"  At  midnight !  And  now  you  know  all ;  and  I  beg  you, 
John,  hasten  and  carry  him  my  message  ;  for,  look,  the  sun  is 
setting,  and  it  will  soon  be  night." 

She  nodded  to  him  with  a  smile,  and  turned  to  go. 

"  Princess,  you  have  forgotten  the  most  important  point. 
You  have  not  yet  told  me  his  name." 

"  My  God!  and  you  do  not  guess  it?  John  Heywood, 
who  has  such  sharp  eyes,  sees  not  that  there  is  at  this  court 
but  a  single  one  who  deserves  to  be  loved  by  a  daughter  of  the 
king ! " 

"  And  the  name  of  this  single  one  is — " 

"  Thomas  Seymour,  Earl  of  Sudley  ! "  whispered  Elizabeth, 
as  she  turned  away  quickly  and  entered  the  castle. 

"Oh,  Thomas  Seymour!"  said  John  Heywood,  utterly 
astounded.  As  if  paralyzed  with  horror,  he  stood  there  mo- 
tionless, staring  up  at  the  sky  and  repeating  over  and  over, 
"  Thomas  Seymour  !  Thomas  Seymour !  So  he  is  a  sorcerer 
who  administers  a  love-potion  to  all  the  women,  and  befools 
them  with  his  handsome,  saucy  face.  Thomas  Seymour ! 
The  queen  loves  him  ;  the  princess  loves  him  ;  and  then  there 
is  this  Duchess  of  Richmond,  who  will  by  all  means  be  his 
wife  !  This  much,  however,  is  certain,  he  is  a  traitor  who  de- 
ceives both,  because  to  both  he  has  made  the  same  confession 
of  love.  And  there  again  is  that  imp,  chance,  which  compels 
me  to  be  the  confidant  of  both  these  women.  But  I  will  be 
well  on  my  guard  against  executing  both  my  commissions  to 
this  sorcerer.  Let  him  at  any  rate  become  the  husband  of  the 
princess ;  perhaps  this  would  be  the  surest  means  of  freeing 
the  queen  from  her  unfortunate  love." 

He  was  silent,  and  still  gazed  up  thoughtfully  at  the  sky. 
"  Yes,"  said  he  then,  quite  cheerfully,  "  thus  shall  it  be.  I 
will  combat  the  one  love  with  the  other.  For  the  queen  to 
love  him,  is  dangerous.  I  will  therefore  so  conduct  matters 
that  she  must  hate  him.  I  will  remain  her  confidant.  I  will 


156  I1ENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

receive  her  letters  and  her  commissions,  but  I  will  burn  her 
letters  and  not  execute  her  commissions.  I  am  not  at  liberty 
to  tell  her  that  the  faithless  Thomas  Seymour  is  false  to  her, 
for  I  have  solemnly  pledged  my  word  to  the  princess  never  to 
breathe  her  secret  to  any  one  ;  and  I  will  and  must  keep  my 
word.  Smile  and  love,  then  ;  dream  on  thy  sweet  dream  of 
love,  queen;  I  wake  for  thee  ;  I  will  cause  the  dark. cloud 
resting  on  thee  to  pass  by.  It  may,  perhaps,  touch  thine  Heart ; 
but  thy  noble  and  beautiful  head — that  at  least  it  shall  not  be 
allowed  to  crush  ;  that — " 

"  Now,  then,  what  are  you  staring  up  at  the  sky  for,  as  if 
you  read  there  a  new  epigram  with  which  to  make  the  king 
laugh,  and  the  parsons  rave?  "  asked  a  voice  near  him  ;  and 
a  hand  was  laid  heavily  on  his  shoulder. 

John  Heywood  did  not  look  round  at  all ;  he  remained  in 
the  same  attitude,  gazing  up  steadily  at  the  sky.  He  had  very 
readily  recognized  the  voice  of  him  who  had  addressed  him  ; 
he  knew  very  well  that  he  who  stood  near  him  was  no  other 
than  the  bold  sorcerer,  whom  he  was  just  then  cursing  at  "the 
bottom  of  his  heart ;  no  other  than  Thomas  Seymour,  Earl  of 
Sudley. 

"Say,  John,  is  it  really  an  epigram?"  asked  Thomas 
Seymour  again.  "  An  epigram  on  the  hypocritical,  lustful, " 
and  sanctimonious  priestly  rabble,  that  with  blasphemous 
hypocrisy  fawn  about  the  king,  and  are  ever  watching  how 
they  can  set  a  trap  for  one  of  us  honorable  and  brave  men  ? 
Is  that  what  Heaven  is  now  revealing  to  you  ?  " 

"  No,  my  lord,  I  am  only  looking  at  a  hawk  which  hovers 
about  there  in  the  clouds.  I  saw  him  mount,  earl,  and  only 
think  of  the  wonder — he  had  in  each  talon  a  dove !  Two 
doves  for  one  hawk.  Is  not  that  too  much — wholly  contrary 
to  law  and  nature  ?  " 

The  earl  cast  on  him  a  penetrating  and  distrustful  look. 
But  John  Heywood,  remaining  perfectly  calm  and  unembar- 
rassed, continued  looking  at  the  clouds. 

"  How  stupid  such  a  brute  is,  and  how  much  to  his  dis- 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  157 

advantage  will  his  very  greediness  be  !  For  since  he  holds  a 
dove  in  each  claw,  he  will  not  he  able  to  enjoy  either  of  them  ; 
because  he  has  uo  claw  at  liberty  with  which  to  tear  them. 
Soon  as  he  wishes  to  enjoy  the  one,  the  other  will  escape  ; 
when  he  grabs  after  that,  the  other  flies  away  ;  and  so  at  last 
he  will  have  nothing  at  all,  because  he  was  too  rapacious  and 
wanted  more  than  he  could  use." 

"  And  you  are  looking  after  this  hawk  in  the  skies  ?  But 
you  are  perhaps  mistaken,  and  he  whom  you  seek  is  not  above 
there  at  all,  but  here  below,  and  perchance  quite  close  to  you  ?  " 
asked  Thomas  Seymour  significantly. 

But  John  Heywood  would  not  understand  him. 

"  Nay,"  said  he,  "  he  still  flies,  but  it  will  not  last  long. 
For  verily  I  saw  the  owner  of  the  dovecot  from  which  the 
hawk  has  stolen  the  two  doves.  He  had  a  weapon  ;  and  he, 
be  ye  sure  of  it — he  will  kill  this  hawk,  because  he  has  robbed 
him  of  his  pet  doves." 

"  Enough,  enough  !  "  cried  the  earl,  impatiently.  "  You 
would  give  me  a  lesson,  but  you  must  know  I  take  no  counsel 
from  a  fool,  even  were  he  the  wisest." 

"  In  that  you  are  right,  my  lord,  for  only  fools  are  so 
foolish  as  to  hearken  to  the  voice  of  wisdom.  Besides,  each 
man  forges  his  own  fortune.  And  now,  wise  sir,  I  will  give 
you  a  key,  which  you  yourself  have  forged,  and  behind  which 
lies  your  fortune.  There,  take  this  key  ;  and  if  you  at  mid- 
night slip  through  the  garden  to  the  tower  over  yonder,  this 
key  will  open  to  you  the  door  of  the  same,  and  you  can  then 
without  hesitation  mount  the  spiral  staircase  and  open  the  door 
which  is  opposite  the  staircase.  Behind  that  you  will  find  the 
fortune  which  you  have  forged  for  yourself,  sir  blacksmith, 
and  which  will  bid  you  welcome  with  warm  lips  and  soft  arms. 
And  so  commending  you  to  God,  I  must  hasten  homo  to  think 
over  the  comedy  which  the  king  has  commanded  me  to  write." 

"  But  you  do  not  so  much  as  tell  me  from  whom  tin's  mcs- 
Bagc  conn •.-?"  .--;ii'l  \-'..\r\  Suilli-y,  n-lainiii.^  him.  "You  invite 
me  to  a  meeting  and  give  me  a  key,  and  I  know  not  who  will 
await  me  there  in  that  tower." 


158  HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

"  Oh,  you  do  not  know?  There  is  then  more  than  one  who 
might  await  you  there?  Well,  then, "it  is  the  youngest  and 
smallest  of  the  two  doves  who  sends  you  the  key." 

"  Princess  Elizabeth  ?  " 

k<  You  have  named  her,  not  I !  "  said  John  Heywood,  as  he 
disengaged  himself  from  the  earl's  grasp  and  hurried  across 
the  court-yard  to  betake  himself  to  his  lodgings. 

Thomas  Seymour  watched  him  with  a  scowl,  and  then 
slowly  directed  his  eyes  to  the  key  that  Heywood  had  given 
him. 

"  The  princess  then  awaits  me,"  whispered  he,  softly. 
"  Ah,  who  can  read  it  in  the  stars?  who  can  know  whither  the 
crown  will  roll  when  it  tumbles  from  King  Henry's  head?  I 
love  Catharine,  but  I  love  ambition  still  more  ;  and  if  it  is  de- 
manded, to  ambition  must  I  sacrifice  my  heart." 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

GAMMER  GUKTON'S  NEEDLE. 

SLOWLY  and  lost  in  gloomy  thought,  John  Heywood  walked 
toward  his  lodgings.  These  lodgings  were  situated  in  the 
second  or  inner  court  of  the  vast  palace  of  Whitehall,  in  that 
wing  of  the  castle  which  contained  the  apartments  of  all  the 
higher  officers  of  the  royal  household,  and  so  those  of  the  court- 
jesters  also  ;  for  the  king's  fool  was  at  that  period  a  very  im- 
portant and  respectable  personage,  who  occupied  a  rank  equal 
to  that  of  a  gentleman  of  the  royal  bed-chamber. 

John  Heywood  had  just  crossed  this  second  court-yard, 
when  all  at  once  loud,  wrangling  voices,  and  the  clear,  peculiar 
ring  of  a  box  on  the  ear,  startled  him  out  of  his  meditations. 

He  stopped  and  listened. 

His  face,  before  so  serious,  had  now  reassumed  its  usual 
merry  and  shrewd  expression  ;  his  large  eyes  again  glittered 
with  humor  and  mischief. 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS    COURT.  159 

"  There  again  verily  is  my  sweet,  charming  housekeeper, 
Gammer  Gurton,"  said  John  Heywood,  laughing ;  "  and  she  no 
doubt  is  quarrelling  again  with  my  excellent  servant,  that  poor, 
long-legged,  blear-eyed  Hodge.  Ah  !  ha  !  Yesterday  I  sur-. 
prised  her  as  she  applied  a  kiss  to  him,  at  which  he  made  as 
doleful  a  face  as  if  a  bee  had  stung  him.  To-day  I  hear  how 
she  is  boxing  his  ears.  He  is  perhaps  now  laughing  at  it,  and 
thinks  it  is  a  rose-leaf  which  cools  his  cheek.  That  Hodge  is 
such  a  queer  bird !  But  we  will  at  once  see  what  there  is  to- 
day, and  what  farce  is  being  performed  now." 

He  crept  softly  up-stairs,  and,  opening  the  door  of  his  room, 
closed  it  again  behind  him  quickly  and  gently. 

Gammer  Gurton,  who  was  in  the  room  adjoining,  had  heard 
nothing,  seen  nothing  ;  and  had  the  heavens  come  tumbling  down 
at  that  moment,  she  would  have  scarcely  noticed  it ;  for  she  had 
eyes  and  sense  only  for  this  long,  lank  lackey  who  stood  before 
her  shaking  with  fear,  and  staring  at  her  out  of  his  great  bluish- 
white  eyes.  Her  whole  soul  lay  in  her  tongue ;  and  her 
tongue  ran  as  fast  as  a  mill-»rheel,  and  with  the  force  of 
thunder. 

How,  then,  could  Gammer  Gurton  well  have  time  and  ears 
to  hear  her  master,  who  had  softly  entered  his  chamber  and 
slyly  crept  to  the  door,  only  half  closed,  which  separated  his 
room  from  that  of  the  housekeeper  ? 

"How!"  screamed  Gammer  Gurton,  "you  silly  raga- 
muffin, you  wish  to  make  me  believe  that  it  was  the  cat  that 
ran  away  with  my  sewing-needle,  as  if  my  sewing-needle  were 
a  mouse  and  smelt  of  bacon,  you  stupid,  blear-eyed  fool !  " 

"  Ah,  you  call  me  a  fool,"  cried  Hodge,  with  a  laugh, 
which  caused  his  mouth  to  describe  a  graceful  line  across  his 
face  from  ear  to  ear ;  "  you  call  me  a  fool,  and  that  is  a  great 
honor  for  me,  for  then  I  am  a  servant  worthy  of  my  master. 
And  ns  to  being  blear-eyed,  that  must  be  caused  by  the  simple 
fact  that  I  have  nothing  all  drty  long  before  my  eyes  but  you, 
Gammer  Gurton — you,  with  your  face  like  a  full  moon — you, 
Bailing  through  the  room  like  a  frigate,  and  with  your  grappling- 


160  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS    COUET. 

irons,  your  hands,  smashing  to  pieces  every  thing  except  your 
own  looking-glass." 

"  You  shall  pay  me  for  that,  you  double-faced,  threadbare 
lout ! "  screamed  Gammer  Gurton,  as  she  rushed  on  Hodge 
with  clinched  fist. 

But  John  Heywood's  cunning  servant  had  anticipated 
this  ;  he  had  already  slipped  under  the  large  table  which  stood 
in  the  middle  of  the  room.  As  the  housekeeper  now  made  a 
plunge  to  drag  him  out  of  his  extemporary  fortress,  he  gave 
her  such  a  hearty  pinch  on  the  leg,  that  she  sprang  back  with 
a  scream,  and  sank,  wholly  overcome  by  the  pain,  into  the 
huge,  leather-covered  elbow-chair  which  was  near  her  work- 
stand  at  the  window. 

"  You  are  a  monster,  Hodge,"  groaned  she,  exhausted — "  a 
heartless,  horrible  monster.  You  have  stolen  my  sewing- 
needle — you  only.  For  you  knew  very  well  that  it  was  my 
last  one,  and  that,  if  I  have  not  that,  I  must  go  at  once  to  the 
shopkeeper  to  buy  some  needles.  And  that  is  just  what  you 
Avant,  you  weathercock,  you.  You  only  want  me  to  go  out, 
that  you  may  have  an  opportunity  to  play  with  Tib." 

"  Tib?  Who  is  Tib?"  asked  Hodge  as  he  stretched  out 
his  long  neck  from  under  the  table,  and  stared  at  Gammer 
Gurton  with  well-assumed  astonishment. 

"  Now  this  otter  wants  me  yet  to  tell  him  who  Tib  is  !  " 
screamed  the  exasperated  dame.  "  Well,  then,  I  will  tell  you. 
Tib  is  the  cook  of  the  major-domo  over  there — a  black-eyed, 
false,  coquettish  little  devil,  who  is  bad  and  mean  enough  to 
troll  away  the  lover  of  an  honest  and  virtuous  woman,  as  I 
am ;  a  lover  who  is  such  a  pitiful  little  thing  that  one  would 
thinK  no  one  but  myself  could  find  him  out  and  see  him  ;  nor 
could  I  have  done  it  had  I  not  now  for  forty  years  trained  my 
eyes  to  the  search,  and  for  forty  years  looked  around  for  the 
man  who  was  at  length  to  marry  me,  and  make  me  a  respect- 
aole  mistress.  Since  my  eyes  th'en  were  at  last  steadily  fixed 
on  this  phantom  of  man,  and  I  found  nothing  there,  I  finally 
discovered  you,  you  cobweb  of  a  man  !  " 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  161 

"  What !  you  call  me  a  cobweb  ?  "  screamed  Hodge,  as  he 
crept  from  under  the  table,  and,  drawing  himself  up  to  his  full 
height,  placed  himself  threateningly  in  front  of  Gammer  Gur- 
ton's  elbow-chair.  "  You  call  me  a  cobweb  ?  Now,  I  swear 
to  you  that  you  shall  henceforth  never  more  be  the  spider  that 
dwells  in  that  web  !  For  you  are  a  garden-spider,  an  abomi- 
nable, dumpy,  old  garden-spidgr,  for  whom  a  web,  such  as 
Hodge  is,  is  much  too  fine  and  much  too  elegant.  Be  quiet, 
therefore,  old  spider,  and  spin  your  net  elsewhere  !  You  shall 
not  live  in  my  net,  but  Tib — for,  yes,  I  do  know  Tib.  Sire  is 
a  lovely,  charming  child  of  fourteen,  as  quick  and  nimble  as  a 
kid,  with  lips  red  as  the  coral  which  you  wear  on  your  fat 
pudding  of  a  neck,  with  eyes  which  shine  yet  brighter  than 
your  nose,  and  with  a  figure  so  slender  and  graceful  that  she 
might  have  been  carved  out  of  one  of  your  fingers.  Yes,  yes, 
I  know  Tib.  She  is  an  affectionate,  good  child,  who  would 
never  be  so  hard-hearted  as  to  abuse  the  man  she  loves,  and 
could  not  be  so  mean  and  pitiful,  even  in  thought,  as  to  wish 
to  marry  the  man  she  did  not  love,  just  because  he  is  a  man. 
Yes,  I  know  Tib,  and  now  I  will  go  straight  to  her  and  ask 
her  if  she  will  marry  a  good,  honest  lad,  who,  to  be  sure,  is 
somewhat  lean,  but  who  doubtless  will  become  fatter  if  he  has 
any  other  fare  than  the  meagre,  abominable  stuff  on  which 
Gammer  Gurton  feeds  him  ;  a  lad  who,  to  be  sure,  is  blear- 
eyed,  but  will  soon  get  over  that  disease  when  he  no  more  sees 
Gammer  Gurton,  who  acts  on  his  eyes  like  a  stinking  onion, 
and  makes  them  always  red  and  running  water.  Good-by, 
old  onion  !  I  am  going  to  Tib." 

But  Gammar  Gurton  whirled  up  out  of  her  elbow-chair 
like  a  top,  and  was  upon  Hodge,  whom  she  held  by  the  coat- 
tail,  mid  brought  him  to  a  stand. 

"  You  dare  go  to  Tib  again !  You  dare  past  that  door 
and  you  shall  see  that  the  gentle,  peaceable,  and  patient  Gam- 
mer Gurton  is  changed  into  a  lioness,  when  any  one  tries  to 
tear  from  her  that  most  sacred  and  dearest  of  treasures,  hor 
husband.  For  you  arc  my  husband,  inasmuch  n#I  have  your 
•word  that  you  will  marry  me." 


162  HENEY   Vm.    AOT)   HIS   COTJBT. 

"  But  I  have  not  told  you  when  and  where  I  will  do  it.. 
Gammer  Gurton  ;  and  so  you  can  wait  to  all  eternity,  for  only 
in  heaven  will  I  be  your  husband." 

"  That  is  an  "abominable,  malicious  lie  !  "  screamed  Gam- 
mer Gurton.  "  A  good-for-nothing  lie,  say  I !  For  did  you 
not  long  ago  snivel  and  beg  till  I  was  forced  to  promise  you 
to  make  a  will,  and  in  it  declares  Hodge,  my  beloved  husband, 
sole  heir  of  all  my  goods  and  chattels,  and  bequeath  to  him 
every  thing  I  have  scraped  together  in  my  virtuous  and  indus- 
trious life  ?  " 

"But  you  did  not  make  it — the  will.  You  broke  your 
word ;  and,  therefore,  I  will  do  the  same." 

"  Yes,  I  have  made  it,  you  greyhound.  I  have  made  it ; 
and  this  very  day  I  was  going  with  you  to  the  justice  of  the 
peace  and  have  it  signed,  and  then  to-morrow  we  would  have 
got  married." 

u  You  have  made  the  will,  you  round  world  of  love  ?  "  said 
Hodge  tenderly,  as  with  his  long,  withered,  spindling  arms  he . 
tried  to  clasp  the  gigantic  waist  of  his  beloved.     "  You  have 
made  the  will  and  declared  me  your  heir  ?     Come,  then,  Gam- 
mer Gurton,  come,  let  us  go  to  the  justice  of  the  peace !  " 

"  But  do  you  not  see,  then,"  said  Gammer  Gurton,  with 
a  tender,  cat-like  purr,  u  do  you  not  see,  then,  that  you  rumple 
my  frill  when  you  hug  me  so  ?  Let  me  go,  then,  and  help  me 
find  my  needle  quickly,  for  without  the  needle  we  cannot  go 
to  the  justice  of  the  peace." 

"  What,  without  the  needle  not  go  to  the  justice  of  the 
peace  ?  " 

"  No ;  for  only  see  this  hole  which  Gib,  the  cat,  tore  in 
my  prettiest  cap  awhile  ago,  as  I  took  the  cap  out  of  the  box 
and  laid  it  on  the  table.  Indeed  I  cannot  go  to  the  justice  of 
the  peace  wirfi  such  a  hole  in  my  cap  !  Search  then,  Hodge, 
search,  so  that  I  can  mend  my  cap,  and  go  with  you  to  the 
justice  of  the  peace  !" 

"  Lord  God,  where  in  the  world  can  it  be,  the  unlucky 
needle?  I  m%st  have  it,  I  must  find  it,  so  that.Gammer  Gur- 
ton may  take  her  will  to  the  justice  of  the  peace  !  " 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  163 

And  in  frantic  desperation,  Hodge  searched  all  about  on 
the  floor  for  the  lost  needle,  and  Gammer  Gurton  stuck  her 
large  spectacles  on  her  flaming  red  nose  and  peered  about  on 
the  table.  So  eager  was  she  in  the  search,  that  she  even  let 
icr  tongue  rest  a  little,  and  deep  silence  reigned  in  the  room. 

Suddenly  this  silence  was  broken  by  a  voice,  which  seemed 
to  come  from  the  court-yard.  It  was  a  soft,  sweet  voice  that 
cried :  "  Hodge,  dear  Hodge,  are  you  there?  Come  to  me  in 
the  court,  only  for  a  few  minutes !  I  want  to  have  a  bit  of 
a  laugh  with  you  !  " 

It  was  as  though  an  electric  shock  had  passed  through  the 
room  with  that  voice,  and  struck  at  the  same  time  both  Gam- 
mer Gurton  and  Hodge. 

Both  startled,  and  discontinuing  the  search,  stood  there 
wholly  immovable,  as  if  petrified. 

Hodge  especially,  poor  Hodge,  was  as  if  struck  by  light- 
ning. His  great  bluish-white  eyes  appeared  to  be  coming  out 
of  their  sockets ;  his  long  arms  hung  down,  flapping  and 
dangling  about  like  a  flail ;  his  knees,  half  bent,  seemed  al- 
ready to  be  giving  way  in  expectation  of  the  approaching 
storm. 

This  storm  did  not  in  fact  make  him  wait  long. 

"  That  is  Tib  I "  screamed  Gammer  Gurton,  springing 
like  a  lioness  upon  Hodge  and  seizing  him  by  the  shoulders 
with  both  her  hands.  "  That  is  Tib,  you  thread-like,  pitiful 
greyhound  !  Well,  was  I  not  right,  now,  when  I  called  you  a 
faithless,  good-for-nothing  scamp,  that  spares  not  innocence, 
and  breaks  the  hearts  of  the  women  as  he  would  a  cracker, 
which  he  swallows  at  his  pleasure  ?  Was  I  not  right,  in  say- 
ing that  you  were  only  watching  for  me  to  go  out  in  order  to 
go  and  sport  with  Tib  ?  " 

"  Hodge,  my  dear,  darling  Hodge,"  cried  the  voice  beneath 
there,  and  this  time  louder  and  more  tender  than  before. 
"  Hodge,  oh  come,  do  now,  come  with  me  in  the  court,  as  you 
promised  me ;  come  and  get  the  kiss  for  which  you  begged 
me  this  morning ! " 


164  HENKY   Vm.    AOT)   HIS   COTJET. 

"  I  will  be  a  damned  otter,  if  I  begged  her  for  it,  and  if  I 
understand  a  single  word  of  what  she  says !  "  said  Hodge, 
wholly  dumbfounded  and  quaking  all  over. 

"Ah,  you  understand  not  a  word  of  what  she  says?" 
screamed  Gammer  Gurton.  *'  Well,  but  I  understand  it.  I 
understand  that  every  thing  between  us  is  past  and  done  with, 
and  that  I  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  you,  you  Moloch,  you ! 
I  understand  that  I  shall  not  go  and  make  my  will,  to  become 
your  wife  and  fret  myself  to  death  over  this  skeleton  of  a  hus- 
band, that  I  may  leave  you  to  chuckle  as  my  heir.  No,  no,  it 
is  past.  I  am  not  going  to  the  justice  of  the  peace,  and  I  will 
tear  up  my  will !  " 

"  Oh,  she  is  going  to  tear  up  her  will !  "  howled  Hodge  ; 
"  and  then  I  have  tormented  myself  in  vain ;  in  vain  have 
endured  the  horrible  luck  of  being  loved  by  this  old  owl !  Oh, 
oh,  she  will  not  make  her  will,  and  Hodge  will  remain  the 
same  miserable  dog  he  always  was  ! " 

Gammer  Gurton  laughed  scornfully.  "  Ah,  you  are  aware 
at  last  what  a  pitiable  wretch  you  are,  and  how  much  a  noble 
and  handsome  person,  as  I  am,  lowered  herself  when  she  made 
up  her  mind  to  pick  up  such  a  weed  and  make  him  her  hus- 
band." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know  it ! "  whined  Hodge  ;  "  and  I  pray  you 
pick  me  up  and  take  me,  and  above  all  things  make  your 
will ! " 

"  No,  I  will  not  take  you,  and  I  shall  not  make  my  will ! 
it  is  all  over  with,  I  tell  you ;  and  now  you  can  go  as  soon  as 
you  please  to  Tib,  who  has  called  you  so  lovingly.  But  first 
give  me  back  my  sewing-needle,  you  magpie,  you  !  Give  me 
here  my  sewing-needle,  which  you  have  stolen.  It  is  of  no 
use  to  you  now,  for  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  go  out  in 
order  that  you  may  go  and  see  Tib.  We  have  nothing  more 
to  do  with  each  other,  and  you  can  go  where  you  wish.  My 
sewing-needle,  say  I — my  needle,  or  I  will  hang  you  as  a 
scarecrow  in  my  pea-patch,  to  frighten  the  sparrows  out  of  it. 
My  sewing  needle,  or — " 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  165 

She  shook  her  clinched  fist  threateningly  at  Hodge,  fully 
convinced  that  now,  as  always  before,  Hodge  would  retreat 
before  this  menacing  weapon  of  his  jealous  and  irritable  lady- 
love, and  seek  safety  under  the  bed  or  the  table. 

This  time,  however,  she  was  mistaken.  Hodge,  who  saw 
that  all  was  lost,  felt  that  hia  patience  was  at  length  exhausted  ; 
and  his  timidity  was  now  changed  to  the  madness  of  despair. 
The  lamb  was  transformed  into  a  tiger,  and  with  a  tiger's  rage 
he  pounced  upon  Gammer  Gurton,  and,  throwing  aside  her 
fist,  he  dealt  her  a  good  sound  blow  on  the  cheek. 

The  signal  was  given,  and  the  battle  began.  It  was 
waged  by  both  sides  with  equal  animosity  and  equal  vigor ; 
only  Hodge's  bony  hand  made  by  far  the  most  telling  blows  on 
Gammer  Gurton's  mass  of  flesh,  and  was  always  certain, 
wherever  he  struck,  to  hit  some  spot  of  this  huge  mass  ;  while 
Gammer  Gurton's  soft  hand  seldom  touched  that  thin,  thread- 
like figure,  which  dexterously  parried  every  blow. 

"  Stop,  you  fools ! "  suddenly  shouted  a  stentorian  voice. 
"  See  you  not,  you  goblins,  that  your  lord  and  master  is  here  ? 
Peace,  peace  then,  you  devils,  and  do  not  be  hammering  away 
nt  one  another,  but  love  each  other." 

"  It  is  the  master ! "  exclaimed  Gammer  Gurton,  lowering 
her  fist  in  the  utmost  contrition. 

"  Do  not  turn  me  away,  sir !  "  moaned  Hodge  ;  "  do  not 
dismiss  me  from  your  service  because  at  last  I  have  for  once 
given  the  old  hag  a  good  bruising.  She  has  deserved  it  a 
long  time,  and  an  angel  himself  must  at  last  lose  patience  with 
her." 

"  I  turn  you  out  of  my  service  ! "  exclaimed  John  Hey- 
wood,  as  he  wiped  his  eyes,  wet  with  laughing.  "  No,  Hodge, 
you  are  a  real  jewel,  a  mine  of  fun  and  merriment ;  and  you 
two  have,  without  knowing  it,  furnished  me  with  the  choicest 
materials  for  a  piece  which,  by  the  king's  order,  I  have  to 
write  within  six  days.  I  owe  you,  then,  many  thanks,  and  will 
show  my  gratitude  forthwith.  Listen  well  to  me,  iny  amorous 
and  tender  pair  of  turtle-doves,  and  mark  what. I  have  to  say 


166  HENRY   Vni.    AND   HIS   OOTTRT. 

to  you.  One  cnnnot  always  tell  the  wolf  by  his  hide,  for  he 
sometimes  puts  on  a  sheep's  skin  ;  and  so,  too,  a  man  cannot 
always  be  recognized  by  his  voice,  for  he  sometimes  borrows 
that  of  his  neighbor.  Thus,  for  example,  I  know  a  certain 
John  Heywood,  who  can  mimic  exactly  the  voice  of  a  certain 
little  miss  named  Tib,  and  who  knows  how  to  warble  as 
she  herself:  '  Hodge,  my  dear  Hodge  ! ' ' 

And  he  repeated  to  them  exactly,  and  with  the  same  tone 
and  expression,  the  words  that  the  voice  had  previously  cried. 

"  Ah,  it  was  you,  sir  ?  "  cried  Hodge,  with  a  broad  grin — 
"  that  Tib  in  the  court  there,  that  Tib  about  whom  we  have  been 
pummelling  each  other  ?  " 

"  I  was  Tib,  Hodge — I  who  was  present  during  the  whole 
of  your  quarrel,  and  found  it  hugely  comical  to  send  Tib's 
voice  thundering  into  the  midst  of  your  lovers'  quarrel,  like  a 
cannon-stroke !  Ah,  ha  !  Hodge,  that  was  a  fine  bomb-shell, 
was  it  not?  And  as  I  said  '  Hodge,  my  dear  Hodge,'  you 
tumbled  about  like  a  kernel  of  corn  which  a  dung-beetle  blows 
with  his  breath.  No,  no,  my  worthy  and  virtuous  Gammer 
Gurton,  it  was  not  Tib  who  called  the  handsome  Hodge,  and 
more  than  that,  I  saw  Tib,  as  your  contest  began,  go  out  at 
the  court-yard  gate." 

"  It  was  not  Tib  ! "  exclaimed  Gammer  Gurton,  much 
moved,  and  happy  as  love  could  make  her.  "  It  was  not  Tib, 
and  she  was  not  in  the  court  at  all,  and  Hodge  could  not  then 
go  down  to  her,  while  I  went  to  the  shopkeeper's  to  buy 
needles.  Oh,  Hodge,  Hodge,  will  you  forgive  me  for  this ; 
will  you  forget  the  hard  words  which  I  spoke  in  the  fury  of 
my  anguish,  and  can  you  love  me  again  ?  " 

"  I  will  try,"  said 'Hodge,  gravely ;  "  and  without  doubt  I 
shall  succeed,  provided  you  go  to-day  forthwith  to  the  justice, 
and  make  your  will." 

"  I  will  make  my  will,  and  to-morrow  we  will  go  to  the 
priest ;  shall  it  not  be  so,  my  angel  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  go  to  the  priest  to-morrow  !  "  growled  Hodge,  as 
with  a  frightful  grimace  he  scratched  himself  behind  the  ears. 


HENBY   Vin.   AND   HIS   COURT.  167 

"  And  now  come,  my  angel,  and  give  me  a  kiss  of  recon- 
ciliation !  " 

She  spread  her  arms  out,  and  when  Hodge  did  not  come 
to  her,  but  remained  immovable,  and  steadfast  in  his  position, 
she  went  to  Hodge  and  pressed  him  tenderly  to  her  heart. 

Suddenly  she  uttered  a  shriek,  and  let  go  of  Hodge.  She 
had  felt  a  terrible  pain  in  her  breast.  It  seemed  as  though  a 
small  dagger  had  pierced  her  bosom. 

And  there  it  was,  the  lost  needle,  and  Hodge  then  was  inno- 
cent and  pure  as  the  early  dawn. 

He  had  not  mischievously  purloined  the  needle,  so  that 
Gammer  Gurton  would  be  compelled  to  leave  her  house  in 
order  to  fetch  some  new  needles  from  the  shopkeeper's  ;  he 
had  not  intended  to  go  to  Tib,  for  Tib  was  not  in  the  court, 
but  had  gone  out. 

"  Oh  Hodge,  Hodge,  good  Hodge,  you  innocent  dove,  will 
you  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  Come  to  the  justice  of  the  peace,  Gammer  Gurton,  and 
I  forgive  you  !  " 

They  sank  tenderly  into  each  other's  arms,  wholly  forget- 
ful of  their  master,  who  still  stood  near  them,  and  looked  on, 
laughing  and  nodding  his  head. 

"  Now,  then,  I  have  found  the  finest  and  most  splendid  ma- 
terials for  my  piece,"  said  John  Heywood,  as  he  left  the  loving 
pair  and  betook  himself  to  his  own  room.  "  Gammer  Gurton 
has  saved  me,  and  King  Henry  will  not  have  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  me  whipped  by  those  most  virtuous  and  most  lovely 
ladies  of  his  court.  To  work,  then,  straightway  to  work  !  " 

He  seated  himself  at  his  writing-desk,  and  seized  pen  and 
paper. 

"  But  how  !  "  asked  he,  suddenly  pausing.  "  That  is  cer- 
tainly a  rich  subject  for  a  composition  ;  but  I  can  never  in  the 
world  get  an  interlude  out  of  it !  What  shall  I  do  with  it  ? 
Abandon  this  subject  altogether,  and  again  jeer  at  the  monks 
and  ridicule  the  nuns  ?  That  is  antiquated  and  worn  out !  I 
will  write  something  new,  something  wholly  newj  and  something 


168  HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

which  -will  make  the  king  so  merry,  that  he  will  not  sign  a 
death-warrant  for  a  whole  day.  Yes,  yes,  a  merry  play  shall  it 
be,  and  then  I  will  call  it  boldly  and  fearlessly  a  comedy  !  " 

He  seized  his  pen  and  wrote  :  "  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle, 
a  right  pithy,  pleasant^  and  merry  comedy." 

And  thus  originated  the  first  English  comedy,  by  John 
Hey  wood,  fool  to  King  Henry  the  Eighth.* 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

LADY     JANE. 

ALL  was  quiet  in  the  palace  of  Whitehall.  Even  the  ser- 
vants on  guard  in  the  vestibule  of  the  king's  bed-chamber  had 
been  a  long  time  slumbering,  for  the  king  had  been  snoring  for 
several  hours  ;  and  this  majestical  sound  was,  to  the  dwellers 
in  the  palace,  the  joyful  announcement  that  for  one  fine  night 
they  were  exempt  from  service,  and  might  be  free  men. 

The  queen  also  had  long  since  retired  to  her  apartments, 
and  dismissed  her  ladies  at  an  unusually  early  hour.  She 
felt,  she  said,  wearied  by  the  chase,  and  much  needed  rest. 
No  one,  therefore,  was  to  venture  to  disturb  her,  unless  the 
king  should  order  it. 

But  the  king,  as  we  have  said,  slept,  and  the  queen  had  no 
reason  to  fear  that  her  night's  rest  would  be  disturbed. 

Deep  silence  reigned  in  the  palace.  The  corridors  were 
empty  and  deserted,  the  apartments  all  silent. 

Suddenly  a  figure  tripped  along  softly  and  cautiously 
through  the  long  feebly  lighted  corridor.  She  was  wrapped  in 
a  black  mantle  ;  a  veil  concealed  her  face. 

Scarcely  touching  the  floor  with  her  feet,  she  floated  away, 

*  This  comedy  was  first  printed  in  the  year  1G61,  but  it  was  represented  at  Christ 
College  fully  a  hundred  years  previously.  Who  was  the  author  of  it,  is  not  known 
with  certainty ;  but  it  is  possible  that  the  writer  of  it  was  John  Heywood,  the  epigram- 
matist and  court-jester. — See  Dramaturgic  oder  Theorie  und  Geschichte  der  drama- 
tischen  Kunst,  von  Theodore  Mundt,  vol.  i.,  page  309.  Flogel's  Geschichte  der  Hof- 
liarren,  page  399. 


HENUY   Vin.    AND   1IIS    COURT.  169 

and  glided  down  a  little  staircase.  Now  she  stops  and  listens. 
There  is  nothing  to  hear ;  all  is  noiseless  and  still. 

Then,  on  again.  "Now  she  wings  her  steps.  For  here  she 
is  sure  of  not  being  heard.  It  is  the  unoccupied  wing  of  the 
castle  of  Whitehall.  Nobody  watches  her  here. 

On,  then,  on,  adown  that  corridor,  descending  those  stairs. 
There  she  stops  before  a  door  leading  into  the  summer-house. 
She  puts  her  ear  to  the  door,  and  listens.  Then  she  claps  her 
hands  three  times. 

The  sound  is  reechoed  from  the  other  side. 

"  Oh,  he  is  there,  he  is  there  !  "  Forgotten  now  are  her 
cares,  forgotten  her  pains  and  tears.  He  is  there.  She  has 
him  again. 

She  throws  open  the  door.  It  is  dark  indeed  in  the  cham- 
ber, but  she  sees  him,  for  the  eye  of  love  pierces  the  night ; 
and  if  she  sees  him  not,  yet  she  feels  his  presence. 

She  rests  on  his  heart ;  he  presses  her  closely  to  his  breast. 
Leaning  on  each,  other,  they  grope  cautiously  along  through, 
the  dark,  desolate  chamber  to  the  divan  at  the  upper  end,  and 
there,  both  locked  in  a  happy  embrace,  they  sink  upon  the 
cushion. 

4 '  At  last  I  have  you  again  !  and  my  arms  again  clasp  this 
divine  form,  and  again  my  lips  press  this  crimson  mouth  !  Oh, 
my  beloved,  what  an  eternity  has  this  separation  been  !  Six 
days  !  Six  long  nights  of  agony  !  Have  you  not  felt  how  my 
soul  cried  out  for  you,  and  was  filled  with  trepidation ;  how  I 
stretched  my  arms  out  into  the  night,  and  let  them  fall  again 
disconsolate  and  trembling  with  anguish,  because  they  clasped 
nothing — naught  but  the  cold,  vacant  night  breeze  !  Did  you 
not  hear,  my  beloved,  how  I  cried  to  you  with  sighs  and  tears  ; 
how  in  glowing  dithyrambics  I  poured  forth  to  you  my  longing, 
my  love,  my  rapture?  But  you,  cruel  you,  remained  ever 
cold,  ever  smiling.  Your  eyes  were  ever  flushing  in  all  the 
pride  and  grandeur  of  a  Juno.  The  roses  on  your  cheeks 
were  not  one  whit  the  paler.  No,  no,  yon  have  not  longed  for 
me  ;  your  heart  has  not  felt  this  painful,  blissful  anguish.  You 
.  8 


HENRY   VIII.    AND   HIS    COURT. 

arc  first  and  above  all  things  the  proud,  cold  queen,  and  next, 
next  the  loving  woman." 

"  How  unjust  and  hard  you  are,  my  Plenry  !  "  whispered 
she  softly.  "  I  have  indeed  suffered  ;  and  perhaps  my  pains 
have  been  more  cruel  and  bitter  than  yours,  for  I — I  had  to  let 
them  consume  me  within.  You  could  pour  them  forth,  you 
could  stretch  out  your  arms  after  me,  you  could  utter  lamenta- 
tions and  sighs.  You  were  not,  like  me,  condemned  to  laugh, 
and  to  jest,  and  to  listen  with  apparently  attentive  ear  to  all 
those  often  heard  and  constantly  repeated  phrases  of  praise  and 
adoration  from  those  about  me.  You  were  at  least  free  to 
suffer.  I  was  not.  It  is  true  I  smiled,  but  amidst  the  pains 
of  death.  It  is  true  my  cheeks  did  not  blanch,  but  rouge  was 
the  veil  with  which  I  covered  their  paleness  ;  and  then,  Henry, 
in  the  midst  of  my  pains  and  longings,  I  had,  too,  a  sweet 
consolation — your  letters,  your  poems,  which  fell  like  the 
dew  of  heaven  upon  my  sick  soul,  and  restored  it  to  health, 
for  new  torments  and  new  hopes.  Oh,  how  I  love  them — those 
poems,  in  whose  noble  and  enchanting  language  your  love  and 
our  sufferings  are  reechoed  !  How  my  whole  soul  flew  forth 
to  meet  them  when  I  received  them,  and  how  pressed  I  my 
lips  thousands  and  thousands  of  times  on  the  paper  which 
seemed  to  me  redolent  with  your  breath  and  your  sighs  !  How 
I  love  that  good,  faithful  Jane,  the  silent  messenger  of  our 
love  !  When  I  behold  her  entering  niy  chamber,  with  the  un- 
sullied paper  in  hand,  she  is  to  me  the  dove  with  the  olive-leaf, 
that  brings  me  peace  and  happiness,  and  I  rush  to  her,  and 
press  h!er  to  my  bosom  ;  and  I  give  her  all  the  kisses  I  would 
give  you,  and  feel  how  poor  and  powerless  I  am,  because  I 
cannot  repay  her  all  the  happiness  that  she  brings  me.  Ah, 
Henry,  how  many  thanks  do  we  owe  to  poor  Jane  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  call  her  poor,  when  she  can  be  near  you, 
always  behold  you,  always  hear  you?  " 

"  I  call  her  poor,  because  she  is  unhappy.  For  she  loves, 
Henry — she  loves  to  desperation,  to  madness,  and  she  is^not 
loved.  She  is  pining  away  with  grief  and  pain,  and  wrings 


HENBY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  1T1 

her  hands  in  boundless  woe.  Have  you  not  noticed  how  pale 
she  is,  and  how  her  eyes  become  daily  more  dim? " 

"  No,  I  have  not  seen  it,  for  I  see  naught  but  you,  and 
Lady  Jane  is  to  me  a  lifeless  image,  as  are  all  other  women. 
But  what !  Yon  tremble-;  ^nd  your  whole  frame  writhes  in  my 
arms,  as  if  in  a  convul'sion  !  And  what  is  "that?  Are  you 
weeping  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  weep,  because  I  am  so  happy.  I  weep,  because  I 
was  thinking  how  fearful  the  suffering  must  be,  to  give  the 
whole  heart  away,  and  receive  nothing  in  return,  naught  but 
death  !  Poor  Jane  !  " 

"  What  is  she  to  us?  We,  we  love  each  other.  Come, 
dear  one,  let  me  kiss  the. tears  from  your  eyes  ;  let  me  drink 
this  nectar,  that  it  may  inspire  me,  and  transfigure  me  to  a 
god  !  Weep  no  more — no,  weep  not ;  or,  if  you  will  do  so, 
be  it  only  in  the  excess  of  rapture,  and  because  word  and  heart 
are  too  poor  to  hold  all  this  bliss  !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  let  us  shout  for  joy  ;  let  us  be  lost  in  blessed- 
ness ! "  exclaimed  she  passionately,  as  with  frantic  violence 
she  threw  herself  on  his  bosom.  • 

Both  were  now  silent,  mutely  resting  on  each  other's  heart. 

Oh,  how  sweet  this  silence  ;  how  entrancing  this  noiseless, 
sacred  night !  How  the  trees  without  there  murmur  and  rustle, 
as  if  they  were  singing  a  heavenly  lullaby  to  the  lovers  !  how 
inquisitively  the  pale  crescent  moon  peeps  through  the  window, 
as  though  she  were  seeking  the  twain  whoso  blessed  confidante 
she  is ! 

But  happiness  is  so  swift-winged,  and  time  flies  so  fast, 
when  love  is  their  companion ! 

Even  now  they  must  part  again — now  they  must  again 
say  farewell. 

"  Not  yet,  beloved,  stay  yet !  See,  the  night  is  still  dark  ; 
and  hark,  the  castle  clock  is  just  striking  two.  No,  go  not 
yet." 

"  I  must,  Henry,  I  must ;  the  hours  are  past  in  which  I  can 
bo  happy." 


172  HENKT   Vm,    AND   HIS   COTJKT. 

"  Oh,  you  cold,  proud  soul !  Does  the  head  already  long 
again  for  the  crown ;  and  can  you  wait  no  longer  for  the  pur- 
ple to  again  cover  your  shoulders?  Come,  let  me  kiss  your 
shoulder  ;  and  think  now,  dear,  that  my  crimson  lips  are  also 
a  purple  robe." 

"  And  a  purple  robe  for  which  I  would  gladly  give  my 
crown  and  my  life  ! "  cried  she,  with  the  utmost  enthusiasm, 
as  she  folded  him  in  her  arms. 

"  Do  you  love  me,  then  ?     Do  you  really  love  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  love  you ! " 

"  Can  you  swear  to  me  that  you  love  no  one  except  me?'' 

"  I  can  swear  it,  as  true  as  there  is  a  God  above  us,  who 
hears  my  oath." 

"  Bless  you  for  it,  you  dear,  you  only  one— oh,  how  shall 
I  call  you? — you  whose  name  I  may  not  utter  !  Oh,  do  you 
know  that  it  is  cruel  never  to  name  the  name  of  the  loved  one  ? 
Withdraw  that  prohibition  ;  grudge  me  not  the  painfully  swee^1 
pleasure  of  being  able  at  least  to  call  you  by  your  name  ! " 

"  No,"  said  ehe,  with  a  shudder ;  "for  know  you  not  that 
the  sleep-walkers  awake  out  of  their  "dreams  when  they  are 
called  by  name  ?  I  am  a  somnambulist,  who,  with  smiling 
courage,  moves  along  a  dizzy  height ;  call  me  by  name,  and  I 
shall  awake,  and,  shuddering,  plunge  into  the  abyss  beneath. 
Ah,  Henry,  1  hate  my  name,  for  it  is  pronounced  by  other  lips 
than  yours.  For  you,  I  will  not  be  named  as  other  men  call  me. 
Baptize  me,  my  Henry  ;  give  me  another  name — a  name  which 
is  our  secret,  and  which  no  one  knows  besides  us." 

"  I  name  you  Geraldine ;  and  as  Geraldine  I  will  praise 
and  laud  you  before  all  the  world.  I  will,  in  spite  of  all  these 
spies  and  listeners,  repeat  again  and  again  that  I  love  you, 
and  no  one,  not  the  king  himself,  shall  be  able  to  forbid  me." 

"  Hush  !  "  said  she,  with  a  shudder,  "  speak  not  of  him  ! 
Oh,  J  conjure  you,  my  Henry,  be  cautious  ;  think  that  you 
have  sworn  to  me  ever  to  think  of  the  danger  that  threatens 
us,  and  will,  without  doubt,  dash  us  in  pieces  if  you,  by  only  a 
sound,  a  look,  or  a  smile,  betray  the  sweet  secret  that  unites 
us  two.  Are  you  still  aware  what  you  have  sworn  to  me  ?  " 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  173 


"  I  am  aware  of  it  !  But  it  is  an  unnatural  Draconian 
law.  What  !  even  when  I  am  alone  with  you,  shall  I  never 
be  allowed  to  address  you  otherwise  than  with  that  reverence 
and  restrain  .which  is  due  the  queen  ?  Even  when  no  one  can 
hear  us,  may  I,  by  no  syllable,  by  none,  not  the  slightest  inti- 
mation, remind  you  of  our  love  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  do  it  not  ;  for  this  castle  has  everywhere  eyes 
and  ears,  and  everywhere  are  spies  and  listeners  behind  the 
tapestry  ;  behind  the  curtains  ;  everywhere  are  they  concealed 
and  lurking,  watching  every  feature,  every  smile,  every  word, 
whether  it  may  not  afford  ground  for  suspicion.  No,  no, 
Henry  ;  swear  to  me  by  our  love  that  you  will  never,  unless 
here  in  this  room,  address  me  otherwise  than  your  queen. 
Swear  to  me  that,  beyond  these  Avails,  you  will  be  to  me  only 
the  respectful  servant  of  your  queen,  and  at  the  same  time  the 
proud  earl  and  lord,  of  whom  it  is  said  that  never  has  a  woman 
been  able  to  touch  his  heart.  Swear  to  me  that  you  will  not, 
by  a  look,  by  a  smile,  by  even  the  gentlest  pressure  of  the  hand, 
betray  what  beyond  this  room  is  a  crime  for  both  of  us.  Let 
this  room  be  the  temple  of  our  love  ;  but  when  we  once  pass 
its  threshold,  we  will  not  profane  the  sweet  mysteries  of  our 
happiness,  by  allowing  unholy  eyes  to  behold  even  a  single  ray 
of  it.  Shall  it  be  so,  my  Henry  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  shall  be  so  !  "  said  he,  with  a  troubled  voice  ;  "  al- 
though I  must  confess  that  this  dreadful  illusion  often  tortures 
me  almost  to  death.  Oh,  Geraldine,  when  I  meet  you  else- 
where, when  I  observe  the  eye  so  icy  and  immovable,  with 
which  you  meet  my  look,  I  feel  as  it  were  my  heart  convulsed  ; 
and  I  say  to  myself:  'This  is  not  she,  whom  I  love  —  not  the 
tender,  passionate  woman,  whom  in  the  darkness  of  the  night 
I  sometimes  lock  in  my  arms.  This  is  Catharine,  the  queen, 
but  not  my  loved  one.  A  woman  cannot  so  disguise  herself; 
art  goes  not  so  far  as  to  falsify  the  entire  nature,  the  innermost 
being  and  life  of  a  person.'  Oh,  there  have  been  hours,  aw- 
ful, horrible  hours,  when  it  seemed  to  me  as  though  all  this 
were  a  delusion,  a  mystification  —  as  though  in  some  way  an 


174  HENEY    VHI.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

evil  demon  assumed  the  queen's  form  by  night  to  mock  me, 
poor  frenzied  visionary,  with  a  happiness  that  has  no  existence, 
but  lives  only  in  my  imagination .  When  such  thoughts  come 
to  me,  I  feel  a  frenzied  fury,  a  crushing  despair, .and  I  could, 
regardless  of  my  oath  and  even  the  danger  that  threatens  you, 
rush  to  you,  and,  before  all  the  courtly  rabble  and  the  king 
himself,  ask :  'Are  you  really  what  you  "seem?  Are  you, 
Catharine  Parr,  King  Henry's  wife — nothing  more,  nothing 
else  than  that?  Or  are  you,  my  beloved,  the  woman  who  is 
mine  in  her  every  thought,  her  every  breath  ;  who  has  vowed 
to  me  eternal  love  and  unchanging  truth ;  and  whom  I,  in 
spite  of  the  whole  world,  and  the  king,  press  to  my  heart  as 
my  own  ? '  " 

"  Unhappy  man,  if  you  ever  venture  that,  you  doom  us 
both  to  death  !'* 

"Be  it  so,  then  !  In  death  you  will  at  least  be  mine,  and 
no  one  would  longer  dare  separate  us,  and  your  eyes  would  no 
longer  look  so  cold  and  strangely  upon  me,  as  they  often  now 
do.  Oh,  I  conjure  you,  gaze  not  upon  me  at  all,  if  you  cannot 
do  it  otherwise  than  with  those  cold,  proud  looks,  that  benumb 
my  heart.  Turn  away  your  eyes,  and  speak  to  me  with  avert- 
ed face." 

"  Then,  men  will  say  that  I  hate  you,  Henry." 

"  It  is  more  agreeable  to  me  for  them  to  say  you  abhor  me 
than  for  them  to  see  that  I  am  wholly  indifferent  to  you  ;  that 
I  am  to  you  nothing  more  than  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  your  lord 
chamberlain." 

"  No,  no,  Henry.  They  shall  see  that  you  are  more  to  me 
than  merely  that.  Before  the  whole  assembled  court  I  will 
give  you  a  token  of  my  love.  Will  you  then  believe,  you  dear, 
foolish  enthusiast,  that  I  love  you,  and  that  it  is  no  demon  that 
rests  here  in  your  arms  and  swears  that  she  loves  nothing  but 
you  ?  Say,  will  you  then  believe  me  ?  " 

"  I  will  believe  you !  But  no,  there  is  no  need  of  any  sign, 
or  any  assurance.  Nay,  I  know  it ;  I  feel  indeed  the  sweet 
reality  that  cuddles  to  my  side,  warm,  and  filling  me  with  hap- 


HENRY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COURT.  175 

piness ;  and  it  is  only  the  excess  of  happiness  that  makes  me 
incredulous." 

"  I  will  convince  you  thoroughly  ;  aiid  you  shall  doubt  no 
more,  not  even  in  the  intoxication  of  happiness.  Listen,  then. 
The  king,  as  you  know,  is  about  to  hold  a  great  tournament 
and  festival  of  the  poets,  and  it  will  take  place  in  a  few  days. 
Now,  then,  at  this  fete  I  will  publicly,  in  the  presence  of  the 
king  and  his  court,  give  you  a  rosette  that  I  wear  on  my 
shoulder,  and  in  the  silver  fringe  of  which  you  will  find  a  note 
from  me.  "Will  that  satisfy  you,  my  Henry?  " 

"  And  do  you  still  question  it,  my  dear?  Do  you  question 
it,  when  you  will  make  me  proud  and  happy  above  all  others 
of  your  court?" 

He  pressed  her  closely  to  his  heart  and  kissed  her.  But 
suddenly  she  writhed  in  his  arms,  and  started  up  in  wild 
alarm. 

"  Day  is  breaking,  day  is  breaking !  See  there  !  a  red 
streak  is  spreading  over  the  clouds.  The  sun  is  coming  ;  day 
is  coming,  and  already  begins  to  dawn." 

He  endeavored  to  detain  her  still ;  but  she  tore  herself 
passionately  away,  and  again  enveloped  her  head  in  her  veil. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  day  is  breaking  and  it  is  growing  light ! 
Let  mo  then,  for  a  moment  at  least,  see  your  face,  My  soul 
thirsts  for  it  as  the  parched  earth  for  the  dew.  Come,  it  is 
light  here  at  the  window.  Let  me  see  your  eyes." 

She  tore  herself  vehemently  away.  "  No,  no,  you  must 
begone  !  Hark,  it  is  already  three  o'clock.  Soon  every  thing 
will  be  astir  in  the  castle.  Did  it  not  seem  as  if  some  person 
passed  by  the  door  here?  Haste,  haste,  if  you  do  not  wish  me 
to  die  of  dread  !  "  She  threw  his  cloak  over  him  ;  she  drew 
his  hat  over  his  brow ;  then  once  more  she  threw  her  arms 
around  his  neck  and  pressed  on  his  lips  a  burning  kiss. 

41  Farewell,  my  beloved  !  farewell,  Henry  Howard  !  When 
we  seo  each  other  again  to-day,  you  are  the  Earl  of  Surrey, 
and  I,  the  queen — not  your  loved  one — not  the  woman  who 
loves  you !  Happiness  is  past,  and  suffering  awakes  anew. 
Farewell." 


176  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

She  herself  opened  the  glass  door,  and  pushed  her  lover 
out. 

"  Farewell,  Geraldine  ;  good-night,  ray  dear  !  Day  comes, 
and  I  again  greet  you  as  my  queen,  and  I  shall  have  to 
endure  again  the  torture  of  your  cold  looks  and  your  haughty 
smiles." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
LOYOLA'S  GENERAL. 

SHE  rushed  to  the  window  and  gazed  after  him  till  he 
had  disappeared,  then  she  uttered  a  deep  cry  of  anguish,  and, 
whoEy  overcome  by  her  agony,  she  sank  down  on  her  knees 
weeping  and  wailing,  wringing  her  hands,  and  raising  them  to 
God. 

But  just  before  so  happy  and  joyful,  she  was  now  full  of 
woe  and  anguish  ;  and  bitter  sighs  of  complaint  came  trembling 
from  her  lips. 

"  Oh,  oh,"  moaned  she,  with  sobs  ;  -"  what  terrible  agonies 
are  these,  and  how  full  of  despair  the  anguish  that  lacerates 
my  breast !  I  have  lain  in  his  arms  ;  I  have  received  his  vows 
of  love  and  accepted  his  kisses  ;  and  these  vows  are  not  mine, 
and  these  kisses  he  gave  not  to  me.  He  kissed  me,  and  he 
loves  in  me  only  her  whom  I  hate.  He  lays  his  hands  in 
mine  and  utters  vows  of  love  which  he  dedicates  to  her.  He 
thinks  and  feels  for  her  only — her  alone.  What  a  terrible 
torture  this  is !  To  be  loved  under  her  name ;  under  her 
name  to  receive  the  vows  of  love  that  yet  belong  to  me  only — 
to  me  alone  !  For  he  loves  me,  me  exclusively  alone.  They 
are  my  lips  that  he  kisses,  my  form  that  he  embraces  ;  to  me 
are  addressed  his  words  and  his  letters  ;  and  it  is  I  that  reply 
to  them.  He  loves  me,  me  only,  and  yet  he  puts  no  faith  in 
mx  lam  nothing  to  him,  naught  but  a  lifeless  image,  like 
other  women.  This  he  has  told  me  :  and  I  did  not  become 


HENKY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

frenzied ;  and  I  had  the  cruel  energy  to  pass  off  the  tears 
wrung  from  me  by  despair,  for  tears  of  rapture.  Oh,  detest- 
able, horrible  mockery  of  fate — to  be  what  I  am  not,  and  not 
to  be  what  I  am  !" 

And  with  a  shrill  cry  of  agony  she  tore  her  hair,  and  with 
her  fist  smote  upon  her  breast,  and  wept  and  moaned  aloud. 

She  heard  naught ;  she  saw  naught ;  she  felt  naught  but 
her  inexpressible  and  despairing  anguish. 

She  did  not  once  tremble  for  herself;  she  thought  not  at  all 
of  this — that  she  would  be  lost  if  she  was  found  in  this  place. 

And  yet  at  the  other  side  of  the  room  a  door  had  opened, 
softly  and  noiselessly,  and  a  man  had  entered. 

He  shut  the  door  behind  him  and  walked  up  to  Lady  Jane, 
who  still  lay  on  the  floor.  He  stood  behind  her  while  she  ut- 
tered her  despairing  lamentation.  He  heard  every  word  of 
her  quivering  lips  ;  her  whole  heart  painfully  convulsed  and 
torn  with  grief  lay  unreiled  before  him ;  and  she  knew  it 
not. 

Now  he  bent  over  her;  and  with  his  hand  he  lightly 
touched  her  shoulder.  At  this  touch  she  gave  a  convulsive 
start,  as  if  hit  by  the  stroke  of  a  sword,  aud  her  sobbing  was 
immediately  silenced. 

An  awful  pause  ensued.  The  woman  lay  on  the  floor  mo- 
tionless, breathless,  and  near  her,  tall  and  cold  as  a  figure  of 
bronze,  stood  the  man. 

"  Lady  Jane  Douglas,"  said  he  then,  sternly  and  solemnly, 
"  stand  up.  It  becomes  aot  your  father's  daughter  to  be  upon 
her  knees,  when,  it  is  not  God  to  whom  she  kneels.  But  you 
are  not  kneeling  to  Grid,  but  to  an  idol,  which  you  yourself 
have  made,  and  to  which  you  have  erected  a  temple  in  your 
heart.  This  idol  is  called,  *  Your  own  personal  misfortune.' 
But  it  is  written,  '  Thou  shall  have  no  other  Gods  but  inc.* 
Therefore  I  say  to  you  once  more,  Lady  Jane  Douglas,  rise 
from  your  knees,  for  it  is  not  your  God  to  whom  you  kneel." 

And  as  though  these  words  exercised  a  magnetic  power 
over  her,  she  raised  herself  up  slowly  from  the  floor,  and  now 
8* 


178  HENEY  VIII.    AND    HIS   COURT. 

stood  there  before  her  father,  stern  and  cold  as  a  statue  of 
marble. 

"  Cast  from  you  the  sorrows  of  this  world,  which  burden 
you,  and  hinder  you  in  the  sacred  work  which  God  has  im- 
posed on  you  ! "  continued  Earl  Douglas  in  his  metallic,  solemn 
voice.  "  It  is  written,  *  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest/  saith  our  God. 
But  you,  Jane,  you  are  to  throw  down  your  trouble  at  the 
foot  of  the  throne  ;  and  your  burden  will  become  a  crown  that 
will  glorify  your  head." 

He  laid  his  hand  on  her  head,  but  she  wildly  shook  it  off. 

"  No,"  cried  she,  with  heavy,  faltering  tongue,  as  if  con- 
fused in  a  dream.  "  Away  with  this  crown !  I  wish  no 
crown  upon  which  devils  have  laid  a  spell.  I  wish  no  royal 
robe  that  has  been  dyed  crimson  with  the  blood  of  my  be- 
loved." 

"  She  is  still  in  the  delirium  of  her  anguish,"  muttered  the 
earl,  as  he  contemplated  the  pale,  trembling  woman  who  had 
now  sunk  again  to  her  knees,  and  was  staring  straight  before 
her  with  eyes  bewildered  and  stretched  wide  open.  But  the 
looks  of  the  earl  remained  cold  and  unmoved,  and  not  the  least 
compassion  was  aroused  in  him  for  his  poor  daughter,  now 
penetrated  with  anguish. 

"  Arise,"  said  he,  in  a  hard,  steelly  voice.  "  The  Church, 
by  my  mouth,  commands  you  to  serve  her  as  you  have  vowed 
to  do  ;  that  is  to  say,  with  glad  heart  and  a  sense  of  your  reli- 
ance on  God ;  that  is  to  say,  with  smiling  lips  and  a  sereue, 
beaming  eye,  as  becomes  a  disciple  inspired  by  faith,  and  as 
you  have  sworn  to  do  in  the  hands*  of  our  lord  and  master 
Ignatius  Loyola." 

"  I  cannot !  I  cannot !"  moaned  she,  in  a  low  tone.  "  Z 
cannot  be  glad  at  heart  when  despair,  like  a  wild  boar,  is 
rending  my  heart ;  I  cannot  command  my  eye  to  shine  when 
my  eyes  are  dimmed  with  tears  of  anguish.  Oh,  have  pity, 
have  compassion  !  Remember  that  you  are  my  father ;  that 
I  am  your  daughter — the  daughter  of  a  wife  whom  you  loved, 


HKtfRY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COUBT.  170 

and  who  would  find  in  the  grave  no  rest  if  she  knew  how  you 
are  racking  and  torturing  me.  My  mother,  my  mother,  if  thy 
spirit  is  near  me,  come  and  protect  me.  Let  thy  mild  looks 
overshadow  my  head,  and  breathe  a  breath  of  thy  love  into 
the  heart  of  this  cruel  father,  who  is  ready  to  sacrifice  his  child 
on  the  altar  of  his  God." 

"  God  has  called  me,"  said  the  earl,  "  and,  like  Abraham, 
I  too  will  learn  to  obey.  But  I  will  not  adorn  my  victim  with 
flowers,  but  with  a  royal  crown.  I  will  not  plunge  a  knife 
into  her  breast,  but  will  put  a  golden  sceptre  into  her  hand 
and  say :  Thou  art  a  queen  before  men,  but  before  God  be 
thou  a  faithful  and  obedient  servant.  Thou  hast  all  to  com- 
mand. But  the  holy  Church,  to  whose  service  thou  hast  con- 
secrated thyself,  and  who  will  bless  thee  if  thou  art  faithful, 
who  will  dash  thee  in  pieces  with  her  curse  if  thou  darest 
deal  treacherously,  she  commands  thee.  No,  you  are  not  my 
daughter,  but  the  priestess  of  the  Church,  consecrated  to  her 
holy  service.  No,  I  have  no  sympathy  with  your  tears  and 
this  anguish,  for  I  see  the  end  of  these  sorrows,  and  I  know 
that  these  tears  will  be  as  a  diadem  of  pearls  about  your  temples. 
Lady  Jane  Douglas,  it  is  the  saintly  Loyola  who  sends  you  his 
commands  by  my  mouth.  Obey  them,  not  because  I  am  your 
father,  but  because  I  am  the  general  to  whom  you  have  sworn 
obedience  and  fidelity  unto  your  life's  end." 

"  Then  kill  me,  my  father !  "  said  she,  feebly.  "  Let  this 
life  end,  which  is  to  me  but  a  torture,  a  protracted  martyrdom. 
Punish  me  for  my  disobedience  by  plunging  your  dagger  deep 
into  my  breast.  Punish  me,  und  grudge  me  not  the  repose  of 
the  grave." 

"  Poor  enthusiast !  "  said  the  father ;  "  suppose  you,  wo 
would  be  foolish  enough  to  subject  you  to  so  light  a  punish- 
ment !  No,  no,  if  you  dare,  in  insolent  disobedience,  rebel 
against  my  commands,  your  penance  shall  be  a  terrible  one, 
and  your  punishment  without  end.  I  will  not  kill  you,  but 
him  whom  you  love ;  it  will  bo  his  head  that  falls ;  and  you 
will  be  his  murderess.  He  shall  die  on  the  scaffold  and  you 
— you  shall  live  in  disgrace." 


180  HENKY   Vni.    ASTD    HIS   COUET. 

"  Oh,  horrible  !  "  groaned  Jane,  as  she  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands. 

Her  father  continued :  "  Silly,  short-sighted  child,  who 
thought  she  could  play  with  the  sword,  and  did  cot  see  that 
she  herself  might  feel  the  stroke  of  this  double-edged  blade  ! 
You  Avanted  to  be  the  servant  of  the  Church,  that  you  might 
thereby  become  mistress  of  the  world.  You  would  acquire 
glory,  but  this  glory  must  not  singe  your  head  with  its  fiery 
rays.  Silly  child  !  he  who  plays  with  fire  will  be  consumed. 
But  we  penetrated  your  thoughts  and  the  wish  of  which  you 
yourself  were  xmconscious.  "We  looked  into  the  depths  of 
your  being,  and  when  we  found  love  there,  we  made  use  of 
love  for  our  own  purposes  and  your  salvation.  What  do  you 
bewail,  then,  and  why  do  you  weep  ?  Have  we  not  allowed 
you  to  love  ?  Have  we'  not  authorized  you  to  give  yourself 
entirely  up  to  this  love?  Do  you  not  call  yourself  Earl  Surrey's 
wife,  though  you  cannot  name  to  me  the  priest  that  married 
you  ?  Lady  Jane,  obey,  and  we  envy  you  not  the  happiness 
of  your  love  ;  dare  to  rebel  against  us,  and  disgrace  and  shame 
overtake  you,  and  you  shall  stand  before  all  the  world  dis- 
owned and  scoffed  at ;  you  the  strumpet,  that — " 

"  Stop,  my  father  !  "  cried  Jane,  as  she  sprang  vehemently 
from  the  floor.  "  Desist  from  your  terrible  words  if  you  do 
not  wish  me  to  die  of  shame.  K"ay,  I  submit,  I  obey  !  You 
are  right,  I  cannot  draw  back." 

"And  why  would  you  either?  Is  it  not  a  life  pleasant 
and  full  of  enjoyment  ?  Is  it  not  rare  good  fortune  to  see  our 
sins  transfigured  to  virtue ;  to  be  able  to  account  earthly  en- 
joyment the  service  of  Heaven  ?  And  what  do  you  bewail 
then?  That  he  does  not  love  you?  Nay,  he  does  love  you  ; 
his  vows  of  love  still  echo  in  your  ears ;  your  heart  still 
trembles  with  the  fruition  of  happiness.  What  matters  it  if 
the  Earl  of  Surrey  with  his  inward  eyes  sees  the  woman  he 
folds  in  his  arms  to  be  another  than  you?  Yet  in  reality  he 
loves  but  you  alone.  Whether  you  are  for  him  named  Catha- 
rine Parr  or  Jane  Douglas,  it  is  all  the  same  if  you  only  are 
his  love." 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  181 

"  But  a  day  will  come  when  he  will  discover  his  mistake, 
and  when  he  will  curse  me." 

"  That  day  will  never  come.  The  holy  Church  will  find 
a  way  to  avert  that,  if  you  bow  to  her  will  and  are  obedient 
to  her." 

"  I  do  bow  to  it ! "  sighed  Jane.  "  I  will  obey ;  only  prom- 
ise me,  my  father,  that  no  harm  shall  happen  to  him ;  that  I 
shall  not  be  his  murderess." 

"  No,  you  shall  become  his  savior  and  deliverer.  Only 
you  must  fulfil  punctually  the  work  I  commit  to  you.  First 
of  all,  then,  tell  me  the  result  of  your  meeting  to-day.  He 
does  not  doubt  that  you  are  the  queen  ?  " 

"  No,  he  believes  it  so  firmly  that  he  would  take  the  sacra- 
ment on  it.  That  is  to  say,  he  believes  it  now  because  I  have 
promised  him  to  give  him  publicly  a  -sign  by  which  he  may 
recognize  that  it  is  the  queen  that  loves  him." 

"  And  this  sign  ?  "  inquired  her  father,  with  a  look  beam- 
ing with  joy. 

"  I  have  pronvised  him  that  at  the  great  tournament,  the 
queen  will  give  him  a  rosette,  and  that  in  that  rosette  he  will 
find  a  note  from  the  queen." 

"  Ah,  the  idea  is  an  admirable  one  1 "  exclaimed  Lord- 
Douglas,  "  and  -only  a  woman  who  wishes  to  avenge  herself 
could  conceive  it.  So,  then,  the  queen  will  become  her  own 
accuser,  and  herself  give  into  our  hands  a  proof  of  her  guilt. 
The  only  difficulty  in  the  way  is  to  bring  the  queen,  without 
arousing  her  suspicion,  to  wear  this  rosette,  and  to  give  it  to 
Surrey." 

"  She  will  do  it  if  I  beg  her  to  do  so,  for  she  loves  me  ;  and 
I  shall  so  represent  it  to  her  that  she  will  do  it  as  an  act  of 
kindness  to  me.  Catharine  is  good-natured  and  agreeable,  and 
cannot  refuse  a  request." 

"  And  I  will  apprise  the  king  of  it.  That  is  to  say,  I  shall 
take  good  care  not  to  do  this  myself,  for  it  is  always  dangerous 
to  approach  a  hungry  tiger  in  his  cage  and  carry  him  his  food, 
because  he  might  in  his  voracity  very  readily  devour  our  own 
hand  together  with  the  proffered  raent." 


182  HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

"  But  how  ? "  asked  she  with  aa  expression  of  alarm. 
*'  Will  he  content  himself  with  punishing  Catharine  alone ; 
will  he  not  also  crush  him — him  whom  he  must  look  upon  as 
her  lover  ?  " 

"  He  will  do  so.  But  you  yourself  shall  save  him  and  set 
him  free.  You  shall  open  his  prison  and  give  him  freedom, 
and  he  will  love  you — you,  the  savior  of  his  life." 

"  Father,  father,  it  is  a  hazardous  game  tMat  you  are  play- 
ing ;  and  it  may  happen  that  you  will  become  thereby  your 
daughter's  murderer.  For,  listen  well  to  what  I  tell  you  ;  if 
his  head  falls,  I  die  by  my  own  hands ;  if  you  make  me  his 
murderess,  you  become  thereby  mine ;  and  I  will  curse  you 
and  execrate  you  in  hell !  What  to  me  is  a  royal  crown  if  it 
be  stained  with  Henry  Howard's  blood?  What  care  I  for 
renown  and  honor,  if  he  is  not  there  to  see  my  greatness,  and 
if  his  beaming  eyes  do  not  reflect  back  to  me  the  light  of  my 
crown  ?  Protect  him,  therefore  ;  guard  his  life  as  the  apple  of 
your  eye,  if  you  wish  me  to  accept  the  royal  crown  that  you 
offer  me,  so  that  the  King  of  England  may  become  again  a 
vassal  of  the  Church  !  " 

"  And  that  the  whole  of  devout  Christendom  may  praise 
Jane  Douglas,  the  pious  queen,  who  has  succeeded  in  the  holy 
work  of  bringing  the  rebellious  and  recreant  son  of  the  Church, 
Henry  the  Eighth,  back  to  the  Holy  Father  in  Rome,  to  the 
only  consecrated  lord  of  the  Church,  truly  penitent.  On,  on, 
my  daughter ;  do  not  despond.  A  high  aim  beckons  you,  and 
a  brilliant  fortune  awaits  you  !  Our  holy  mother,  the  Church, 
will  bless  and  praise  you,  and  Henry  the  Eighth  will  declare 
you  his  queen." 


HENRY   Vni.    AND   HIS   COURT.  183 

CHAPTER  XX. 

THE   PRISONER. 

STILL  all  was  calm  and  quiet  in  the  palace  of  Whitehall. 
Nothing  was  stirring,  and  nobody  had  heard  how  Lady  Jane 
Douglas  left  her  chamber  and  glided  down  the  corridor. 

No  one  has  heard  it,  and  no  eye  is  awake,  and  none  sees 
what  is  now  taking  place  in  the  queen's  room. 

She  is  alone — all  alone.  The  servants  are  all  asleep  in 
their  chambers.  The  queen  herself  has  bolted  the  doors  of  the 
anteroom  on  the  inside,  and  no  other  door  leads  into  her  bou- 
doir and  bed-room,  except  through  this  anteroom. 

She  is  therefore  perfectly  secluded,  perfectly  secure. 

Speedily  and  in  haste  she  envelops  herself  in  a  long  black 
mantle,  the  hood  of  which  she  draws  well  over  her  head  and 
brow,  and  which  completely  covers  and  conceals  her  fornv. 

And  now  she  presses  on  a  spring  inserted  in  the  frame  of 
a  picture.  The  picture  flies  back  and  shows  an  opening, 
through  which  a  person  can  quite  conveniently  pass  out. 

Catharine  does  so.  Then  she  carefully  pushes  the  picture 
back  to  its  place  from  the  outside,  and  for  a  long  time  walks 
on  in  the  passage  hollowed  out  of  the  solid  wall,  till  groping 
along  she  at  last  lays  hold  again  of  a  knob  in  the  wall.  She 
presses  on  it ;  and  now  at  her  feet  opens  a  trap-door,  through 
which  a  feeble  light  forces  its  way  and  renders  visible  a  small 
narrow  staircase  there  situated.  Catharine  enters  and  de- 
scends the  steps  with  winged  feet.  Now  at  the  foot  of  (he 
staircase  she  again  presses  on  a  secret  spring ;  and  again  a 
door  opens,  through  which  the  queen  passes  into  a  largo  hall. 

"  Oh,"  whispered  she,  fetching  a  long  breath,  "the  grceu 
summer  house  at  last." 

She  quickly  traversed  it  and  opened  the  next  door. 

"  John  Ileywood  ?  " 

"  I  aga  here,  queen !  " 


184:  HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

"  Hush,  hush !  gently  as  possible,  that  the  watch,  who 
walks  up  and  down  just  behind  the  door,  may  not  hear  us. 
Come,  we  still  have  a  long  walk — let  us  make  haste." 

Again  she  pressed  on  a  spring  inserted  in  the  wall ;  and 
again  a  door  opens.  But  before  Catharine  bolts  this  door, 
she  takes  the  lamp  burning  on  the  table  there,  which  is  to 
lighten  the  dark  and  difficult  path  through  which  they  are  now 
to  wend  their  way. 

Now  she  bolts  the  door  behind  them ;  and  they  enter  a 
long,  dark  corridor,  at  the  end  of  which  is  found  still  another 
staircase,  and  down  which  they  both  go.  Numberless  steps 
conduct  them  below ;  gradually  the  air  becomes  dense,  the 
steps  moist.  The  stillness  of  the  grave  is  around  them.  No 
sound  of  life,  not  the  least  noise,  is  now  perceptible. 

They  are  in  a  sub.terranean  passage,  which  stretches  out 
in  length  before  them  farther  than  the  eye  can  reach. 

Catharine  turns  to  John  Heywood  ;  the  lamp  lights  up 
her  face,  which  is  pale,  but  exhibits  an  expression  firm  and 
resolute. 

"  John  Heywood,  reflect  once  more  !  I  ask  not  whether 
you  have  courage,  for  I  know  that.  I  only  wish  to  know 
whether  you  will  employ  this  courage  for  your  queen  ?  " 

"  No,  not  for  the  queen,  but  for  the  noble  Avoman  who  has 
saved  my  son." 

"  You  must  then  be  my  protector  to-day  if  we  meet  with 
dangers.  But  if  it  be  God's  will,  we  shall  encounter  no  dan- 
gers. Let  us  go." 

They  go  vigorously  forward,  silent  all  the  way. 

At  length  they  come  to  a  place  where  the  passage  grows 
broader,  and  spreads  out  into  a  little  open  chamber ;  on  the 
side  walls  of  which  a  few  seats  are  placed. 

"  We  have  now  accomplished  half  of  the  journey,"  said 
Catharine  ;  "  and  here  we  will  rest  a  little." 

She  placed  the  lamp  on  the  small  marble  table  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  passage,  and  sat  down,  pointing  to  John  Heywood  to 
take  a  seat  near  her. 


HENKY  Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  18,5 

"  I  am  not  the  queen,  here,"  said  she  ;  "  and  you  are  not 
the  king's  fool ;  but  I  am  a  poor  weak  woman,  and  you  are 
my  protector.  You  may,  therefore,  well  have  the  right  to  sit 
by  me." 

But  John  shook  his  head  with  a  smile,  and  sat  down  at 
her  feet.  "  St.  Catharine,  savior  of  my  son,  I  lie  at  thy  feet,  and 
devoutly  return  thanks  to  thee." 

"  John,  are  you  acquainted  with  this  subterranean  pas- 
sage? "  asked  the  queen. 

John  gave  a  sad  smile.    "  I  am  acquainted  with  it,  queen." 

"Ah,  you  know  it?  I  supposed  it  was  a  secret  of  the 
king  and  queen." 

"  Then  you  will  readily  conceive  that  the  fool  knows  it. 
For  the  King  of  England  and  the  fool  arc  twin  brothers.  Yes, 
queen,  I  know  this  passage  ;  and  I  oiic^wended  it  in  anguish 
and  tears." 

"  What !     You  yourself,  John  Heywood  ?  " 

"  Yes,  queen.  And  now  I  ask  you,  do  you  know  the  his- 
tory of  this  underground  passage?  You  are  silent.  Now, 
well  for  you  that  you  do  not  know  it.  It  is  a  long  and  bloody 
history,  and  if  I  should  narrate  to  you  the  whole  of  it,  the 
night  would  be  too  short  for  it.  When  this  passage  was  built, 
Henry  was  still  young,  and  possessed  yet  a  heart.  At  that 
time,  he  loved  not  merely  his  wives,  but  his  friends  and 
servants  also — specially  Cromwell,  the  all-powerful  minister. 
He  then  resided  at  Whitehall,  and  Henry  in  the  royal  apart- 
ments of  the  Tower.  But  Henry  was  always  longing  for  his 
favorite ;  and  so  Cromwell  one  day  surprised  him  with  this 
subterranean  passage,  the  construction  of  which  had  occupied 
a  hundred  men  a  whole  year.  Ah,  ah,  the  king  was  then  very 
much  moved,  and  thanked  his  powerful  minister  for  this  sur- 
prise with  tears  and  hugs.  There  passed  scarcely  a  day  that 
Henry  did  not  go  to  Cromwell  through  this  passage.  So  he 
saw  each  day  how  the  palace  of  Whitehall  became  more  and 
more  splendid  and  glorious ;  and  when  he  returned  to  the 
Tower,  he  discovered  that  this  residence  was  altogether  un- 


186  HENET   VTEI.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

worthy  of  a  king ;  but  that  his  minister  lived  by  far  more 
magnificently  than  the  King  of  England.  That,  queen,  was 
the  cause  of  Cromwell's  fall !  The  king  wanted  Whitehall. 
The  sly  Cromwell  noticed  it,  and  made  him  a  present  of  his 
gem,  the  palace  on  whose  construction  and  decoration  he  had 
labored  ten  years.  Henry  accepted  the  present ;  but  now 
Cromwell's  fall  was  irrevocable.  The  king  could  not,  of 
course,  forgive  Cromwell  for  having  dared  to  offer  him  a  pres- 
ent so  valuable,  that  Henry  could  not  or  would  not  repay  it. 
He  remained,  therefore,  Cromwell's  debtor ;  and  since  this  tor- 
mented and  vexed  Mm,  he  swore  Cromwell's  ruin.  When 
Henry  moved  into  Whitehall,  it  was  concluded  that  Cromwell 
must  ascend  the  scaffold.  Ah,  the  king  is  such  an  economical 
builder  !  A  palace  costs  him  nothing  but  the  head  of  a  sub- 
ject. With  Cromwell's,  head  he  paid  for  Whitehall ;  and 
Wolsey  died  for  Hampton  Court." 

"  Not  on  the  scaffold,  though,  John." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  Henry  preferred  merely  to  break  his  heart,  and 
not  his  head.  First,  he  had  that  wonderful  pleasure-villa. 
Hampton  Court,  with  all  its  treasures,  presented  him  by  Wol- 
sey ;  then  he  removed  him  from  all  his  offices,  and  deprived 
him  of  all  his  honors.  Finally,  he  was  to  go  to  the  Tower  as 
a  prisoner  ;  but  he  died  on  his  way  thither.  No,  you  are  right ! 
Wolsey  did  not  die  on  the  scaffold,  he  was  put  to  death  much 
more  slowly  and  more  cruelly.  He  was  not  killed  with  the 
sword,  but  pricked  to  death  with  pins  !  " 

"  Did  you  not  say,  John,  that  you  had  travelled  this  way 
once  before?" 

"  Yes,  queen,  and  I  did  it  to  bid  farewell  to  the  noblest  of 
men,  and  the  truest  of  friends,  Thomas  More  !  I  begged  and 
besought  Cromwell  so  long  that  he  had  compassion  on  my  an- 
guish, and  allowed  me  to  go  through  this  passage  to  Thomas 
More,  that  I  might  at  least  receive  the  blessing  and  last  kiss 
of  affection  of  this  saint.  Ah,  queen,  speak  no  more  of  it  to 
me  !  From  that  day  I  became  a  fool ;  for  I  saw  it  was  not 
worth  the  trouble  to  be  an  honest  man,  when  such  men  as 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  187 

More    are  executed  as  criminals. — Come,  queen,  let  us  go 
on!" 

"  Yes,  on,  John  ! ''  said  she,  rising.  "  But  do  you  know 
then  whither  we  are  going?" 

"  Ah,  queeu,  do  I  not  then  know  you?  and  did  I  not  tell 
you  that  Anne  Askew  is  to  be  stretched  upon  the  rack  to  mor- 
row, unless  she  recant  ?  " 

"  I  see  that  you  have  understood  me,"  said  she,  giving  him 
a  friendly  nod.  "  Yes,  I  am  going  to  Anne  Askew. " 

"  But  how  will  you,  without  heing  seen  and  discovered, 
find  out  her  cell?" 

"  John,  even  the  unhappy  have  friends.  Yes,  the  queen 
herself  has  a  few ;  and  so  chance,  or  it  may  be  even  God's 
will,  has  so  arranged  matters,  that  Anne  Askew  is  occupying, 
just  at  this  time,  that  small  room  in  which  the  secret  passage 
terminates." 

"  Is  she  alone  in  that  room  ?  " 

"  Yes,  all  alone.  The  guard  stands  without  before  the 
door." 

"  And  should  they  hear  you,  and  open  the  door  ?  " 

"Then  without  doubt  I  am  lost,  unless,  God  supports 
me." 

They  walked  on  in  silence,  both  too  much  occupied  with 
their  own  thoughts  to  interrupt  them  by  conversation. 

But  this  long,  extended  walk  at  length  wearied  Catharine. 
She  leaned  exhausted  against  the  wall. 

"  Will  you  do  me  a  favor,  queen?"  asked  John  Ileywood. 
"  Permit  me  to  carry  you.  Your  little  feet  can  bear  you  no 
farther ;  make  mo  your  feet,  your  majesty !  " 

She  refused  with  a  friendly  smile.  "  No,  John,  these  are 
the  passion-stations  of  a  saint ;  and  you  know  one  must  inukc 
the  round  of  them  in  the  sweat  of  his  face,  and  on  his  knees." 

"  Oh,  queen,  how  noble  and  how  courageous  you  are  ! " 
exclaimed  John  Ileywood.  "You  do  good  without  display,  and 
you  shun  no  danger,  if  it  avails  toward  the  accomplishment  of 
a  noble  work." 


188  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 


"  Yet,  John,"  said  she,  with  a  bewitching  smile,  "  I  dread 
danger  ;  and  just  on  that  account  I  begged  you  to  accompany 
me.  I  shudder  at  the  long,  desolate  way,  at  the  darkness  and 
grave-like  stillness  of  this  passage.  Ah,  John,  I  thought  to 
myself,  if  I  came  here  alone,  the  shades  of  Anne  Boleyn  and 
Catharine  would  be  roused  from  their  sleep  by  me  who  wear 
their  crown  ;  they  would  hover  about  me,  and  seize  me  by  the 
hand  and  lead  me  to  their  graves,  to  show  me  that  there  is  yet 
room  there  for  me  likewise.  You  see,  then,  that  I  am  not  at 
all  courageous,  but  a  cowardly  and  trembling  woman." 

"  And  nevertheless,  you  came,  queen.  " 

"  I  reckoned  on  you,  John  Hey  wood.  It  was  my  duty  to 
risk  this  passage,  to  save,  perchance,  the  life  of  the  poor  enthu- 
siastic girl.  For  it  shall  not  be  said  that  Catharine  deserts 
her  friends  in  misfortune,  and  that  she  shrinks  back  at  danger. 
I  am  but  a  poor,  weak  woman,  John,  who  cannot  defend  her 
friends  with  weapons,  and,  therefore,  I  must  resort  to  other 
means.  But  see,  John,  here  the  path  forks  !  Ah,  my  God  !  I 
know  it  only  from  the  description  that  was  given  me,  but  no 
one  said  any  thing  of  this  to  me.  John,  which  way  must  we 
now  turn  ?  " 

"  This  way,  queen  ;  and  here  we  are  at  the  end  of  our 
journey.  That  path  there  leads  to  the  torture-chamber,  that  is 
to  say  to  a  small  grated  window,  through  which  one  can  over- 
look that  room.  When  King  Henry  was  in  special  good-hu- 
mor, he  would  resort  with  his  friend  to  this  grating  to  divert 
himself  a  little  with  the  tortures  of  the  damned  and  blasphe- 
mers. For  you  well  know,  queen,  only  such  as  have  blasphemed 
God,  or  have  not  recognized  King  Henry  as  the  pope  of  their 
Church,  have  the  honor  of  the  rack  as  their  due.  But  hush  ! 
here  we  are  at  the  door,  and  here  is  the  spring  that  opens  it." 

Catharine  set  her  lamp  on  the  ground  and  pressed  the 
spring. 

The  door  turned  slowly  and  noiselessly  on  its  hinges,  and 
softly,  like  shades,  the  two  entered. 

They  now  found  themselves  in  a  small,  circular  apartment, 


HE'NKY  vm.  AND  HIS  COURT.  189 

which  seemed  to  have  originally  a  niche  formed  in  the  wall  of 
the  Tower,  rather  than  a  room.  Through  a  narrow  grated 
opening  in  the  wall  only  a  little  air  and  light  penetrated  into 
this  dungeon  ;  the  bald,  bare  walls  of  which  showed  the  stones 
of  the  masonry.  There  was  no  chair,  no  table  in  the  whole 
space ;  only  yonder  in  that  corner  on  the  earth  they  had 
heaped  up  some  straw.  On  this  straw  lay  a  pale,  tender  crea- 
ture ;  the  sunken,  thin  cheeks,  transparently  white  as  alabaster ; 
the  brow  so  pure  and  clear  ;  the  entire  countenance  so  peace- 
ful ;  the  bare,  meagre  arms  thrown  back  over  the  head ;  the 
hands  folded  over  the  forehead  ;  the  head  bsnt  to  one  side  in 
quiet,  peaceful  slumber ;  the  delicate,  tender  form  wrapped  in 
a  long  black  dress,  gently  stretched  out,  and  on  her  lips  a  smile, 
such  as  only  the  happy  know. 

That  was  Anne  Askew,  the  criminal,  the  condemned — 
Anne  Askew,  who  was  an  atheist  only  for  this,  because  she 
did  not  believe  in  the  king's  vast  elevation  and  godlikeness, 
and  would  not  subject  her  own  free  soul  to  that  of  the  king. 

"  She  sleeps, "  whispered  Catharine,  deeply  moved.  Wholly 
involuntarily  she  folded  her  hands  as  she  stepped  to  the  couch 
of  the  sufferer,  and  alow  prayer  trembled  on  her  lips. 

"  So  sleep  the  just !  "  said  Heywood.  "  Angels  comfort 
them  in  their  slumbers  ;  and  the  breath  of  God  refreshes  them. 
Poor  girl ,  how  soon,  and  they  will  wrench  these  noble,  fair 
limbs,  and  torture  thee  for  the  honor  of  God,  and  open  to 
tones  of  distress  that  mouth  which  now  smiles  so  peacefully  !  " 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  queen,  hastily.  "  I  have  come  to  save 
her,  and  God  will  assist  me  to  do  it.  I  cannot  spare  her  slum- 
bers any  longer.  I  must  wake  her." 

She.  bent  down  and  pressed  a  kiss  on  the  young  girl's  fore- 
head. "  Anne,  awake  ;  I  am  here !  I  will  save  you  and  set 
you  free.  Anne,  Anne,  awake  !  " 

She  slowly  raised  hpr  large,  brilliant  eyes,  and  nodded  a 
salutation  to  Catharine. 

"  Catharine  Parr !  "  said  she,  with  a  smile.  "  I  expected 
only  a  letter  from  you ;  and  have  you  come  yourself?  " 


190  HENRY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

"  The  guards  have  been  dismissed,  and  the  turnkeys 
changed,  Anne  ;  for  our  correspondence  had  been  discovered." 

"  Ah,  you  will  write  to  me  no  more  in  future  !  And  yet 
your  letters  were  my  only  comfort,"  sighed  Anne  Askew. 
"  But  that  also  is  well ;  and  perhaps  it  will  only  make  the  path 
that  I  have  to  tread  still  easier.  The  heart  must  set  itself 
free  from  all  earthly  bonds,  that  the  soul  may  move  its  pinions 
freely  and  easily,  and  return  to  God." 

"  Hear  me,  Anne,  hear,"  said  Catharine  in  a  low  and  hur- 
ried voice.  "A  terrible  danger  threatens  you!  the  king  has 
given  orders  to  move  you,  by  means  of  the  rack,  to  recant." 

"  Well,  and  what  more?"  asked  Anne,  with  smiling  face. 

"  Unfortunate,  you  know  not  what  you  are  saying !  You 
know  not  what  fearful  agonies  await  you !  You  know  not 
the  power  of  pains,  which  are  perhaps  still  mightier  than  the 
spirit,  and  may  overcome  it. 

"  And  if  I  did  know  them  now,  what  would  it  avail  me?  " 
asked  Anne  Askew.  "  You  say  they  will  put  me  to  the  rack. 
"Well,  then,  I  shall  have  to  bear  it,  for  I  have  no  power  to  change 
their  will." 

"  Yet,  Anne,  yet  you  have  the  power !  Eetract  what  you 
have  said,  Anne  !  Declare  that  you  repent,  and  that  you  per- 
ceive that  you  have  been  deluded  !  Say  that  you  will  recog- 
nize the  king  as  lord  of  the  Church  ;  that  you  will  swear  to 
the  six  articles,  and  never  believe  in  the  Pope  of  Rome.  Ah, 
Anne,  God  sees  your  heart  and  knows  your  thoughts.  You 
have  no  need  to  make  them  known  by  your  lips.  He  has 
given  you  life,  and  you  have  no  right  to  throw  it  away ;  you 
must  seek  to  keep  it  so  long  as  you  can.  Recant,  then  !  It  is 
perfectly  allowable  to  deceive  those  who  would  murder  us. 
Recant,  then,  Anne,  recant !  When  they  in  their  haughty  ar- 
rogance demand  of  you  to  say  what  they  say,  consider  them 
as  lunatics,  to  whom  you  make  apparent  concessions  only  to 
keep  them  from  raving.  Of  what  consequence  is  it,  whether 
you  do  or  do  not  say  that  the  king  is  the  head  of  the  Church  ? 
From  His  heavens  above,  God  looks  down  and  smiles  at  this 


HENRY   Vm.   AND   HIS   COURT.  193 

petty  eartly  strife  which  concerns  not  Him,  but  men  only.  Let 
scholars  and  theologians  wrangle  ;  we  women  have  nothing  to 
do  with  it.  If  we  only  believe  in  God,  and  bear  Him  to  our 
hearts,  the  form  in  which  we  do  it  is  a  matter  of  indifference. 
But  in  this  case  the  question  is  not  about  God,  but  merely 
about  external  dogmas.  Why  should  you  trouble  yourself 
with  these?  What  have  you  to  do  with  the  controversies  of 
the  priests?  Recant,  then,  poor  enthusiastic  child,  recant !  " 

While  Catharine,  in  a  low  tone  and  with  fluttering  breath, 
thus  spoke,  Anne  Askew  had  slowly  arisen  from  her  couch,  and 
now  stood,  like  a  lily,  so  slender  and  delicate,  confronting  the 
queen. 

Her  noble  countenance  expressed  deep  indignation.  Her 
eyes  shot  lightning,  and  a  contemptuous  smile  was  on  her 
lips. 

"What!  Can  you  thus  advise  me?"  said  she.  "Can 
you  wish  me  to  deny  my  faith,  and  abjure  my  God,  only  to  es- 
cape earthly  pain  ?  And  your  tongue  does  not  refuse  to  utter 
this,  and  your  heart  does  not  shrink  with  shame  while  you  do 
it?  Look  at  these  arms  ;  what  are  they  worth  that  I  should  not 
sacrifice  them  to  God  ?  See  these  feeble  limbs  !  Are  they  so 
precious  that  I,  like  a  disgusting  niggard,  should  spare  them? 
No,  no,  God  is  my  highest  good — not  this  feeble,  decaying 
body!  For  God  I  sacrifice  it.  I  should  recant?  Never! 
Faith  is  not  enveloped  in  this  or  that  garb  ;  it  must  be  naked 
and  open.  So  may  mine  be.  And  if  I  then  am  chosen  to  be 
an  example  of  pure  faith,  that  denies  not,  and  makes  profes- 
sion— well,  thenvenvy  me  not  this  preeminence.  '  Many  are 
called,  but  few  are  chosen.'  If  I  am  one  of  the  chosen,  I 
thank  God  for  it,  and  bless  the  erring  mortals  who  wish  to 
make  me  such  by  means  of  the  torture  of  the  rack.  Ah,  be- 
lieve'me,  Catharine,  I  rejoice  to  die,  for  it  is  such  a  sad,  des- 
olate, and  desperate  thing  to  live.  Let  me  die,  Catharine — 
die,  tojenter  into  blessedness  !  " 

••  But,  poor,  pitiable  child  !  this  is  more  than  death  ;  it  is 
the  torture  of  earth  that  threatens  you.  Oh,  bethink  you, 


192  HENRY    VIH.    AND    HIS    COUKT. 

Anne,  that  you  are  only  a  feeble  woman.  Who  knows  whether 
the  rack  may  not  y;et  conquer  your  spirit,  and  whether  you, 
with  your  mangled  limbs,  may  not  by  the  fury  of  the  pain  yet 
be  brought  to  that  point  that  you  will  recant  and  abjure  your 
faith?" 

"  If  I  could  do  that,"  cried  Anne  Askew,  with  flashing 
eyes,  "  believe  me,  queen,  as  soon  as  I  came  to  my  senses  I 
would  lay  violent  hands  on  myself,  in  order  to  give  myself  over 
to  eternal  damnation,  as  the  punishment  of  my  recantation  ! 
God  has  ordered  that  I  shall  be  a  sign  of  the  true  faith.  Be 
His  command  fulfilled  !  " 

"Well,  then,  so  be  it,"  said  Catharine  resolutely.  "Do 
not  recant,  but  save  yourself  from  your  executioners  !  I,  Anne, 
I,  will  save  you  !  I  cannot  bear — I  cannot  think  of  it — that 
this  dear  noble  form  should  be  sacrificed  to  a  vile  delusion  of 
man  ;  that  they  will  torture  to  the  honor  of  God  a  noble  like- 
ness of  the  same  God  !  Oh,  come,  come,  I  will  save  you  !  I, 
the  queen  !  Give  me  your  hand.  Follow  me  out  of  this  dun- 
geon. I  know  a  path  that  leads  out  of  this  place  ;  and  I  will 
conceal  you  so  long  in  my  own  apartments  that  you  can  con- 
tinue your  flight  without  danger." 

"No,  no,  queen,  you  shall  not  conceal  her  with  you  !"  said 
John  Heywood.  "You  have  been  graciously  pleased  to  allow 
me  to  be  your  confidant ;  envy  me  not,  then,  a  share  in  your 
noble  work  also.  Not  with  you  shall  Anne  Askew  find  refuge, 
but  with  me.  Oh,  come,  Anne,  follow  your  friends.  It  is  life 
that  calls  you,  that  opens  the  doors  to  you,  and  desires  to  call 
you  by  a  thousand  names  to  itself!  Do  you  not  hear  them,  all 
those  sweet  and  alluring  voices  ;  do  you  not  see  them,  all  those 
noble  and  smiling  faces,  how  they  greet  you  and  beckon  to 
you?  Anne  Askew,  it  is  the  noble  husband  that  calls  you  ! 
You  know  him  not  as  yet,  but  he  is  waiting  for  you  there  in 
the  world  without.  Anne  Askew,  there  are  your  children, 
who  are  stretching  their  tender  arms  out  to  you.  You  hgve  uot 
yet  borne  them ;  but  love  holds  them  in  her  arms,  and  will 
bring  them  to  meet  you.  It  is  the  wife  and  the  mother  that 


HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   c6lIET.  193 

the  world  yet  demands  of  you,  Anne.  You  ought  not  to  shun 
the  holy  calling  which  God  has  given  you.  Come,  then,  and 
follow  us — follow  your  queen,  who  has  the  right  to  order  her 
subject.  Follow  the  friend,  who  has  sworn  that  he  will 
watch  over  you  and  protect  you  as  a  father  !  " 

"  Father  in  heaven,  protect  me  !  "  exclaimed  Anne  Askew, 
falling  on  her  knees  and  stretching  her  hands  upward. 
"  Father  in  heaven !  they  would  tear  away  Thy  child,  and 
alienate  my  hearl?  from  Thee  1  They  are  leading  me  into 
temptation  and  alluring  me  with  their  words.  Protect  me,  my 
Father  ;  make  my  ear  deaf,  that  I  may  not  hear  them  !  Give 
me  a  sign  that  I  am  Thine  ;  that  no  one  has  any  longer  power 
over  me,  save  Thou  alone  !  A  sign,  that  Thou,  Father,  call- 
est  me ! " 

And,  as  if  God  had  really  heard  her  prayer,  a  loud  knocking 
was  now  perceived  at  the  outer  door,  and  a  voice  cried : 
"  Anne  Askew,  awake  !  and  hold  yourself  ready  !  The  high 
chancellor  and  the  Bishop  of  Winchester  come  to  fetch  you 
away ! " 

"  Ah,  the  rack ! "  groaned  Catharine,  as  with  a  shudder 
she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"  Yes,  the  rack  ! "  said  Anne,  with  a  blissful  smile.  "  God 
culls  me ! " 

John  Hey  wood,  had  approached  the  queen  and  impetuously 
seized  her  hand.  "  You  see  it  is  in  vain,"  said  he,  urgently. 
"Make  haste  then  to  save  yourself  I  Hasten  to  leave  this 
prison  before  the  door  there  opens." 

"  No,"  said  Catharine,  firmly  and  resolutely.  "  No,  I  stay. 
She  shall  not  surpass  me  in  courage  and  greatness  of  soul ! 
She  will  not  deny  her  God  ;  well,  then,  I  also  will  be  a  witness 
of  my  God.  I  will  not  in  shame  cast  my  eyes  to  the  ground 
before  this  young  >/\r\ ;  like  her,  I  will  frankly  and  openly 
profess  my  faith  ;  like  her  I  will  say  :  '  God  alone  is  Lord  of 
his  Church,'  God — " 

There  was  a  movement  without ;  a  key  was  heard  to  turu 
in  the  lock. 

0 


194:  HENI&   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

"Queen,  I  conjure  you,"  besought  John  Heywood,  "by 
all  that  is  holy  to  you,  by  your  love,  come,  come  !  " 

"  No,  no  ! "  cried  she,  vehemently. 

But  now  Anne  seized  her  hand,  and  stretching  the  other 
arm  toward  heaven,  she  said  in  a  loud,  commanding  voice: 
"  In  the  name  of  God,  I  order  you  to  leave  me  !  " 

While  Catharine  drew  back  wholly  involuntarily,  John  Hey- 
wood pushed  her  to  the  secret  door,  and  urging  her  out  almost 
with  violence,  he  drew  the  door  to  behind  tlfem  both. 

Just  as  the  secret  door  had  closed,  the  other  on  the  oppo- 
site side  opened. 

"With  whom  were  you  speaking?"  asked  Gardiner,  peer- 
ing around  the  room  with  a  sharp  look. 

"  With  the  tempter,  that  wished  to  alienate  me  from  God," 
said  she — "  with  the  tempter,  who  at  the  approach  of  your 
footsteps  wanted  to  fool  my  heart  with  fear,  and  persuade  me 
to  recant !  " 

"You  are,  then,  firmly  resolved?  you  do  not  retract?" 
asked  Gardiner;  and  a  savage  joy  shone  in  his  pale,  hard 
countenance. 

"  No,  I  do  not  recant !"  said  she,  with  a  face  beaming  with 
smiles. 

"  Then,  in  the  name  of  God  and  of  the  king,  I  take  you 
into  the  torture-chamber  !  "  cried  Chancellor  Wriothesley,  as 
he  advanced  and  laid  his  heavy  hand  on  Anne's  shoulder. 
u  You  would  not  hear  the  voice  of  love  warning  you  and  call- 
ing you,  so  we  will  now  try  to  arouse  you  from  your  madness 
by  the  voice  of  wrath  and  damnation." 

He  beckoned  to  the  attendants  on  the  rack,  who  stood 
behind  him  in  the  open  door,  and  ordered  them  to  seize  her 
and  carry  her  to  the  torture-chamber. 

Anne,  smiling,  turned  them  back.  "Nay,  not  so!"  said 
she.  "  The  'Saviour  went  on  foot,  and  bore  His  cross  to  the 
place  of  execution.  I  will  tread  His  path.  Show  me  the 
way,  I  follow  you.  But  let  no  one  dare  touch  me.  I  will 
show  you  that  not  by  constraint,  but  gadly  and  freely,  I  tread 


I1ENEY   Vm.    AND   IIIS 


COURT.  195 


the  path  of  suffering,  which  I  shall  endure  for  the  sake  of  my 
God.  Rejoice,  oh  my  soul  losing,  my  lips  !  for  the  bridegroom 
is  near,  and  the  feast  is  about  to  begin." 

And  in  exultant  tones  Anne  Askew  began  to  sing  a  hymn, 
that  had  not  died  away  when  she  entered  the  torture-chamber. 


•     CHAPTER  XXI. 

PBINCESS     ELIZABETH. 

THE  king  sleeps.  Let  him  sleep  !  He  is  old  and  infirm, 
and  God  has  severely  punished  the  restless  tyrant  with  a 
vacillating,  ever-disquieted,  never-satisfied  spirit,  while  He 
bound  his  body  and  made  the  spirit  prisoner  of  the  body ; 
while  He  made  the  ambitious  king,  struggling  for  the  infinite, 
a  slave  to  his  own  flesh.  How  high  soever  his  thoughts  soar, 
still  the  king  remains  a  clumsy,  confined,  powerless  child  of 
humanity  ;  how  much  soever  his  conscience  harasses  him  with 
disquiet  and  dread,  yet  he  must  be  calm  and  endure  it.  He 
cannot  run  away  from  his  conscience ;  God  has  fettered  him 
by  the  flesh. 

The  king  is  sleeping !  But  the  queen  is  not ;  and  Jane 
Douglas  is  not ;  neither  is  the  Princess  Elizabeth. 

She  has  watched  with  heart  beating  high.  She  is  restless, 
and,  pacing  her  room  up  and  down  in  strange  confusion,  waited 
for  the  hour  that  she  had  appointed  for  the  meeting.  Now  the 
hour  had  arrived.  A  glowing  crimson  overspread  the  face  of 
the  young  princess ;  and  her  hand  trembled  as  she  took  the 
light  and  opened  the  secret  door  to  the  corridor.  She  stood 
still  for  a  moment,  hesitating ;  then,  ashamed  of  her  irresolu- 
tion, she  crossed  the  corridor  and  ascended  the  small  staircase 
which  led  to  the  tower-chamber.  With  a  hasty  movement  she 
pushed  open  the  door  and  entered  the  room.  She  was  at 
the  end  of  her  journey,  and  Thomas  Seymour  was  already 
there. 


196  HENRY   VIII.    AND    HIS   COCET. 

As  she  saw  him,  an  involuntary  trepidation  came  over  her 
and  for  the  first  time  she  now  became  conscious  of  her  hazard- 
ous step. 

As  Seymour,  the  ardent  young  man,  approached  her  with 
a  passionate  salutation,  she  stepped  shyly  back  and  pushed 
away  his  hand. 

"  How  !  you  will  not  allow  me  to  kiss  your  hand? "  asked 
he,  and  she  thought  she  observed  on  his  face  a  slight,  scornful 
smile.  "  You  make  me  the  happiest  of  mortals  by  inviting 
me  to  this  interview,  and  now  you  stand  before  me  rigid  and 
cold,  and  I  am  not  once  permitted  to  clasp  you  in  my  arms, 
Elizabeth ! " 

Elizabeth  !  He  had  called  her  by  her  first  name  without 
her  having  given  him  permission  to  do  so.  That  offended  her. 
In  the  midst  of  her  confusion,  thai  aroused  the  pride  of  the 
princess,  and  made  her  aware  how  much  she  must  have  for- 
gotten her  own  dignity,  when  another  could  be  so  forgetful 
of  it. 

She  wished  to  regain  it.  At  this  moment  she  would  have 
given  a  year  of  her  life  if  she  had  not  taken  this  step — if  she 
had  not  invited  the  earl  to  this  meeting. 

She  wanted  to  try  and  regain  in  his  eyes  her  lost  position, 
and  again  to  become  to  him  the  princess. 

Pride  in  her  was  still  mightier  than  love.  She  meant  her 
lover  should  at  the  same  time  bow  before  her  as  her  favored 
servant. 

Therefore  she  gravely  said :  "  Earl  Thomas  Seymour,  you 
have  often  begged  us  for  a  private  conversation ;  we  now 
grant  it  to  you.  Speak,  then  !  what  matter  of  importance  have 
you  to  bring  before  us?" 

And  with  an  air  of  gravity  she  stepped  to  an  easy-chair, 
on  which  she  seated  herself  slowly  and  solemnly  like  a  queen, 
who  gives  audience  to  her  vassals. 

Poor,  innocent  child,  that  in  her  unconscious  trepidation 
wished  to  intrench  herself  behind  her  grandeur,  as  behind  a 
shield,  which  might  conceal  her  maidenly  fear  and  girlish 
anxiety ! 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET.  197 

Thomas  Seymour,  however,  divined  her  thoughts ;  and 
his  proud  and  cold  heart  revolted  against  this  child's  attempt  to 
defy  him. 

He  wanted  to  humble  her ;  he  wished  to  compel  her  to 
bow  before  him,  and  implore  his  love  as  a  gracious  gift. 

He  therefore  bowed  low  to  the  princess,  and  respectfully 
said :  "  Your  highness,  it  is  true  I  have  often  besought  you 
for  an  audience  ;  but  you  have  so  long  refused  me,  that  at  last 
I  could  no  longer  sujnmon  up  courage  to  solicit  it ;  and  I  let 
my  wish  be  silent  and  my  heart  dumb.  Therefore  seek  not 
now,  when  these  pains  have  been  subdued,  to  excite  them 
again.  My  heart  should  remain  dead,  my  lips  mute.  You 
have  so  willed ;  and  I  have  submitted  to  your  will.  Farewell, 
then,  princess,  and  may  your  days  be  happier  and  more  serene 
than  those  of  poor  Thomas  Seymour  !  " 

He  bowed  low  before  her,  and  then  went  slowly  to  the 
door.  He  had  already  opened  it  and  was  abou^to  step  out, 
when  a  hand  was  suddenly  laid  on  his  shoulder  and  drew 
him  with  vehement  impetuosity  back  into  the  room. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  ?  "  asked  Elizabeth,  with  fluttering 
breath  and  trembling  voice.  "  You  want  to  leave  me,  and, 
flouting  me,  you  want  now,  it  may  be,  to  go  to  the  Duchess 
of  Richmond,  your  mistress,  and  relate  to  her  with  a  sneer 
that  the  Princess  Elizabeth  granted  you  an  interview,  and  that 
you  have  flouted  her  ?  " 

"  The  Duchess  of  Richmond  is  not  my  mistress,"  said  the 
earl,  earnestly. 

"  No,  not  your  mistress ;  but  she  will  very  soon  be  your 
wife !  " 

"  She  will  never  bo  my  wife  !  " 

"And  why  not?" 

"  Because  I  do  not  love  her,  princess." 

A  beam  of  delight  passed  over  Elizabeth's  pale,  agitated 
face.  "  Why  do  you  call  me  princess?  "  asked  she. 

"  Because  you  have  come  as  a  princess  to  favor  your  poor 
gcrvaut  with  an  audience.  But,  ah,  it  would  be  greatly  abus- 


198  HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTJBT. 

ing  your  princely  grace  did  I  want  to  protract  this  audience  still 
further.  I  therefore  retire,  princess." 

And  again  he  approached  the  door.  But  Elizabeth  rushed 
after  him,  and,  laying  hold  of  his  arms  with  both  her  hands, 
she  wildly  pushed  him  back. 

Her  eyes  shot  lightning ;  her  lips  trembled ;  a  passionate 
warmth  was  manifested  in  her  whole  being.  Now  she  was 
the  true  daughter  of  her  father,  inconsiderate  and  passionate 
in  her  wrath,  destroying  in  her  ferocity. 

"  You  shall  not  go,"  muttered  she,  with  her  teeth  firmly  set. 
"  I  will  not  let  you  go  !  I  will  not  let  you  confront  me  any 
longer  with  that  cold,  smiling  face.  Scold  me  ;  cast  on  me  the  bit- 
terest reproaches,  because  I  have  dared  to  brave  you  so  long ; 
curse  me,  if  you  can  !  Any  thing  but  this  smiling  calmness. 
It  kills  me  ;  it  pierces  my  heart  like  a  dagger.  For  you  see 
weh1  enough  that  I  have  no  longer  the  power  to  withstand  you  ; 
you  see  well  enough  that  I  love  you.  Yes,  I  love  you  to 
ecstasy  and  to  desperation ;  with  desire  and  dread.  I  love 
you  as  my  demon  and  my  angel.  I  am  angry,  because  you 
have  so  entirely  crushed  the  pride  of  my  heart.  I  curse  you, 
because  you  have  made  me  so  entirely  your  slave ;  and  the 
next  moment  I  fall  on  my  knees  and  beseech  God  to  forgive 
me  this  crime  against  you.  I  love  you,  I  say — not  as  these 
soft,  gentle-hearted  women  love,  with  a  smile  on  the  lip  ;  but 
with  madness  and  desperation,  with  jealousy  and  wrath.  I 
love  you  as  my  father  loved  Anne  Boleyn,  whom,  in  the 
hatred  of  his  love  and  the  cruel  wrath  of  his  jealousy,  he  made 
to  mount  the  scaffold,  because  he  had  been  told  that  she  was 
untrue  to  him.  Ah,  had  I  the  power,  I  would  do  as  my 
father  did ;  I  would  murder  you,  if  you  should  dare  ever  to 
cease  to  love  me.  And  now,  Thomas  Seymour,  now  say 
whether  you  have  the  courage  to  desire  to  leave  me?" 

She  looked  bewitching  in  the  flaming  might  of  her  passion  ; 
she  was  so  young,  so  ardent ;  and  Thomas  Seymour  was  so 
ambitious  !  In  his  eyes  Elizabeth  was  not  merely  the  beauti- 
ful, charming  maiden,  who  loved  him ;  she  was  more  than 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  199 

that :  she  was  the  daughter  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  the  Princess 
of  England,  perchance  some  day  the  heiress  of  the  throne.  It 
is  true,  her  father  had  disinherited  her,  and  by  act  of  Parlia- 
ment declared  her  unworthy  of  succeeding  to  the  throne.* 
But  Henry's  vacillating  mind  might  change,  and  the  disowned 
princess  might  one  day  become  queen. 

The  earl  thought  of  this  as  he  gazed  on  Elizabeth — as  he 
saw  her  before  him,  so  charming,  so  young,  and  so  glowing 
with  passion.  He  thought  of  it  as  he  now  clasped  her  in  his 
arms,  and  pressed  on  her  lips  a  burning  kiss. 

"  No,  I  will  not  go,"  whispered  he.  "  I  will  never  more 
depart  from  your  side,  if  you  do  not  wish  me  to  go.  I  am 
yours ! — your  slave,  your  vassal ;  and  I  will  never  be  any 
thing  else  but  this  alone.  They  may  betray  me  ;  your  father 
may  punish  me  for  high  treason  ;  yet  will  I  exult  in  my  good 
fortune,  for  Elizabeth  loves  me,  and  it  will  be  for  Elizabeth 
that  I  die  !  " 

"  You  shall  not  die  !  "  cried  she,  clinging  fast  to  him.  "  You 
shall  live,  live  at  my  side,  proud,  great,  and  happy !  You 
shall  be  my  lord  and  my  master ;  and  if  I  am  ever  queen,  and 
I  feel  here  in  my  heart  that  I  must  become  so,  then  win  Thomas 
Seymour  be  King  of  England." 

"  That  is  to  say,  in  the  quiet  and  secrecy  of  your  chamber 
I  should  perhaps  be  so  ! "  said  he  with  a  sigh.  "  But  there 
without,  before  the  world,  I  shall  still  be  ever  only  a  servant ; 
and,  at  the  best,  I  shall  be  called  the  favorite." 

"  Never,  never,  that  I  swear  to  you  I  Said  I  not  that  I 
loved  you  ?  "  • 

"  But  the  love  of  a  woman  is  so  changeable !  Who 
knows  how  long  it  will  be  before  you  will  tread  under  your 
lit-t  poor  Thomas  Seymour,  when  once  the  crown  has  adorned 
your  brow." 

She  looked  at  him  well-nigh  horrified.  "  Can  this  be, 
then?  Is  it  possible  that  one  can  forget  and  forsake  what  he 
once  loved?" 

*  -Burnot,  vol.  1,  iwgo  138. 


200  HENRY  vm.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"Do  you  ask,  Elizabeth?  Has  not  your  father  already 
his  sixth  wife  ?  " 

"  It  is  true,"  said  she,  as  mournfully  she  dropped  her  head 
upon  her  breast.  "  But  I,"  said  she,  after  a  pause,  "  I  shall  not 
be  like  my  father  in  that.  I  shall  love  you  eternally !  And 
that  you  may  have  a  guaranty  of  my  faithfulness,  I  offer  my- 
self to  you  as  your  wife." 

Astonished,  he  looked  inquiringly  into  her  excited,  glowing 
face  !  He  did  not  understand  her. 

But  she  continued,  passionately :  "Yes,  you  shall  be  my  lord 
and  my  husband !  Come,  my  beloved,  come  !  I  have  not 
called  you  to  take  upon  yourself  the  disgraceful  r6le  of  the  se- 
cret lover  of  a  princess — I  have  called  you  to  be  my  husband. 
I  wish  a  bond  to  unite  us  two,  that  is  so  indissoluble  that  not 
even  the  wrath  and  will  of  my  father,  but  only  death  itself,  can 
sever  it.  I  will  give  you  proof  of  my  love  and  my  devotion  ; 
and  you  shall  be  forced  to  acknowledge  that  I  truly  love  you. 
Come,  my  beloved,  that  I  may  soon  hail  you  as  my  hus- 
band !" 

He  looked  at  her  as  though  petrified.  "  Whither  will  you 
lead  me  ? '' 

"  To  the  private  chapel,  "  said  she,  innocently.  "  I  have 
written  Cranmer  to  await  me  there  at  daybreak.  Let  us 
hasten,  then !  " 

"Cranmer!  You  have  written  to  the  archbishop  ?"  cried 
Seymour,  amazed.  "  How  !  what  say  you?  Cranmer  awaits 
us  in  the  private  chapel  ?  " 

"  Without  doubt  he  is  waiting  for  us.,  as  I  have  written 
him  to  do  so." 

"  And  what  is  he  to  do  ?     What  do  you  want  of  him  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  "  What  do  I  want  of 
him  ?  Why,  that  he  may  marry  us  !  " 

The  earl  staggered  back  as  if  stunned.  "  And  have  you 
written  him  that  also  ?  " 

"  Nay,  indeed,"  said  she,  with  a  charming,  childlike  smile. 
"  I  know  very  well  that  it  is  dangerous  to  trust  such  secrets  to 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS    COUET.  201 

paper.     I  have  only  written  him  to  come  in  his  official  robes, 
because  I  have  an  important  secret  to  confess  to  him." 

"  Oh,  God  be  praised !  We  are  not  lost,"  sighed  Sey- 
mour. 

"  But  how,  I  do  not  understand  you  ?  "  asked  she.  "  You  do 
not  extend  me  your  hand !  You  do  not  hasten  to  conduct  me 
to  the  chapel !  " 

"  Tell  me,  I  conjure  you,  tell  me  only  this  one  thing : 
have  you  ever  spoken  to  the  archbishop  of  your — no— of  our 
love  ?  Have  you  ever  betrayed  to  him  so  much  as  a  syllable 
of  that  which  stirs  our  hearts  ?  " 

She  blushed  deeply  beneath  the  steady  gaze  which  he  fixed 
on  her.  "Upbraid  me,  Seymour,"  whispered  she.  "  But  my 
heart  was  weak  and  timorous  ;  and  as  often  as  I  tried  to  ful- 
fil the  holy  duty,  and  confess  every  thing  honestly  and  frankly 
to  the  archbishop,  I  could  not  do  it !  The  word  died  on  my 
lips ;  and  it  was  as  though  an  invisible  power  paralyzed  my 
tongue." 

"  So,  then,  Cranmer  knows  nothing?" 

"  No  Seymour,  he  knows  nothing  yet.  But  now  he  shall 
learn  all;  now  we. will  go  before  him  and  tell  him  that  we 
love  each  other,  and  constrain  him,  by  our  prayers,  to  bless 
our  union,  and  join  our  hands." 

"  Impossible  ! "  cried  Seymour.     "  That  can  never  be  !  " 

"  How  !     What  do  you  say  ?  "  asked  she  in  astonishment. 

"  I  say  that  Cranmer  will  never  be  so  insane,  nay,  so 
criminal,  as  to  fulfil  your  wish.  I  say  that  you  can  never  bo 
my  wife." 

She  looked  him  full  and  square  in  the  face.  "  Have  you 
not  then  told  me  that  you  love  me?"  asked  she.  "Have  I 
not  sworn  to  you  that  I  love  you  in  return?  Must  we  then 
not  be  married,  in  order  to  sanctify  the  union  of  our  hearts?" 

Seymour  sank  his  eyes  to  the  ground  before  her  pure  in- 
nocent look,  and  blushed  for  shame.  She  did  not  un<lriM;in<l 
this  blush  ;  bccase  he  wr.s  silent,  she  deemed  him  convinced. 

*'  Come,"  said  she,  "come  ;  Cranmer  is  waiting  for  us  !  " 
9* 


202  IJENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

He  again  raised  his  eyes  and  looked  at  her  in  amazement 
"  Do  you  not  see,  then,  this  is  all  only  a  dream  that  can  never 
become  reality  ?  Do  you  not  feel  that  this  precious  fantasy 
of  your  great  and  noble  heart  will  never  be  realized?  How  ! 
are  you  then  so  little  acquainted  with  your  father  as  not  to 
know  that  he  would  destroy  us  both  if  we  should  dare  thus  to 
set  at  naught  his  paternal  and  his  royal  authority?  Your 
birth  would  not  secure  you  from  his  destroying  fury,  for  you 
well  know  he  is  unyielding  and  reckless  in  his  wrath  ;  and  the 
voice  of  consanguinity  sounds  not  so  loud  in  him  that  it  would 
not  be  drowned  by  the  thunder  of  his  wrath.  Poor  child,  you 
have  learned  that  already !  Remember  with  what  cruelty 
he  has  already  revenged  himself  on  you  for  the  pretended  fault 
of  your  mother  ;  ho\v  he  transferred  to  you  his  wrath  against 
her.  Remember  that  he  refused  your  hand  to  the  Dauphin  of 
France,  not  for  the  sake  of  your  happiness,  but  because  he 
said  you  were  not  worthy  of  so  exalted  a  position.  Anne 
Boleyn's  bastard  could  never  become  Queen't>f  France.  And 
after  such  a  proof  of  his  cruel  wrath  against  you,  will  you 
dare  cast  in  his  face  this  terrible  insult  ?— compel  him  to  rec- 
ognize a  subject,  a  servant,  as  his  son?" 

"  Oh,  this  servant  is,  however,  the  brother  of  a  Queen  of 
England  !  "  said  she,  shyly.  "  My  father  loved  Jane  Seymour 
too  warmly  not  to  forgive  her  brother." 

"  Ah,  ah,  you  do  not  know  your  father  !  He  has  no  heart 
for  the  past ;  or,  if  he  has,  it  is  only  to  take  vengeance  for  an 
injury  or  a  fault,  but  not  to  reward  love.  King  Henry  would 
be  capable  of  sentencing  Anne  Boleyn's  daughter  to  death, 
and  of  sending  to  the  block  and  rack  Catharine  Howard's 
brothers,  because  these  two  queens  once  grieved  him  and 
wounded  his  heart ;  but  he  would  not  forgive  me  the  least 
offence  on  account  of  my  being  the  brother  of  a  queen  who 
loved  him  faithfully  and  tenderly  till  her  death.  But  I  speak 
not  of  myself.  I  am  a  warrior,  and  have  too  often  looked 
death  in  the  face  to  fear  him  now.  I  speak  only  of  you,  Eliz- 
abeth. You  have  no  right  to  perish  thus.  This  noble  head 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   DIS   COUKT.  '    203 

must  not  be  laid  upon  the  block.  It  is  destined  to  wear  a 
royal  crown.  A  fortune  still  higher  than  love  awaits  you — 
fame  and  power  !  I  must  not  draw  you  away  from  this  proud 
future.  The  Princess  Elizabeth,  though  abused  and  disowned, 
may  yet  one  day  mount  the  throne  of  England.  The  Countess 
Seymour  never !  she  disinherits  herself.  Follow,  then,  your 
high  destiny.  Earl  Seymour  retires  befoi*e  a  throne." 

"  That  is  to  say,  you  disdained  me  ?  "  asked  she,  angrily 
stamping  the  floor  with  her  foot.  "  That  is  to  say,  the  proud 
Earl  Seymour  holds  the  bastard  too  base  for  his  coronet ! 
That  is  to  say,  you  love  me  not ! " 

"  No,  it  means  that  I  love  you  more  than  myself — better 
and  more  purely  than  any  other  man  can  love  you ;  for  this 
love  is  so  great  that  it  makes  my  selfishness  and  my  ambition 
silent,  and  allows  me  to  think  only  of  you  and  your  future." 

"  Ah,"  sighed  she,  mournfully,  "  if  you  really  loved  me,  you 
would  not  consider — you  would  not  see  the  danger,  nor  fear 
death.  You  would  think  of  nothing,  and  know  nothing,  save 
love." 

"  Because  I  think  of  love,  I  think  of  you,"  said  Seymour. 
"  I  think  that  you  are  to  move  along  over  the  world,  great,  pow- 
erful, and  glorious,  and  that  I  will  lend  you  my  arm  for  this. 
I  think  of  this,  that  my  queen  of  tho  future  needs  a  general 
who  will  win  victories  for  her,  and  that  I  will  be  that  general. 
But  when  this  goal  is  reached — when  you  are  queen — then 
you  have  the  power  from  one  of  your  subjects  to  make  a  hus- 
band ;  then  it  rests  with  your  own  will  to  elevate  me  to  be  the 
proudest,  the  happiest,  and  the  most  enviable  of  all  men.  Ex- 
tend me  your  hand,  then,  and  I  will  thank  and  praise  God  that 
He  is  so  gracious  to  me  ;  and  my  whole  existence  will  be  spent 
in  the  effort  to  give  you  the  happiness  that  you  are  so  well 
entitled  to  demand." 

"  And  until  then  ?  "  asked  she,  mournfully. 

"  Until  then,  we  will  be  constant,  and  love  each  other !  " 
LTu-d  he,  as  he  tenderly  pressed  her  in  his  arms. 

She  gently  repelled  him.  "  Will  you  also  bo  true  to  me 
till  then?" 


204  '    HENEY  vin.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

"  True  till  death  !  " 

"  They  have  told  me  that  you  would  marry  the  Duchess 
of  Richmond,  in  order  thereby  to  at  length  put  an  end  to  the 
ancient  hatred  between  the  Howards  and  Seymours." 

Thomas  Seymour  frowned,  and  his  countenance  grew  dark. 
"  Believe  me,  this  hatred  is  invincible,"  said  he ;  "  and  no 
matrimonial  alliance  could  wash  it  away.  It  is  an  inheritance 
from  many  years  in  our  families ;  and  I  am  firmly  resolved 
not  to  renounce  my  inheritance.  I  shall  just  as  little  marry 
the  Duchess  of  Richmond,  as  Henry  Howard  will  my  sister, 
the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury." 

"  Swear  that  to  me  !  Swear  to  me,  that  you  say  the  truth, 
and  that  this  haughty  and  coquettish  duchess  shall  never  be 
your  wife.  'Swear  it  to  me,  by  all  that  is  sacred  to  you  !  " 

"  I  swear  it  by  my  love ! "  exclaimed  Thomas  Seymour, 
solemnly. 

"  I  shall  then  at  least  have  one  sorrow  the  less,"  sighed 
Elizabeth.  "  I  shall  have  no  occasion  to  be  jealous.  And  is 
it  not  true,"  she  then  said,  "  is  it  not  true  we  shall  often  see 
each  other?  We  will  both  keep  this  secret  of  this  tower  faith- 
fully and  sacredly ;  and  after  days  full  of  privation  and  disap- 
pointment, we  will  here  keep  festival  the  nights  full  of  blissful 
pleasure  and  sweet  transport.  But  why  do  you  smile,  Sey- 
mour ?  " 

"  I  smile,  because  you  are  pure  and  innocent  as  an  angel," 
said  he,  as  he  reverently  kissed  her  hand.  "  I  smile,  because 
you  are  an  exalted,  godlike  child,  whom  one  ought  to  adore 
upon  his  knees,  and  to  whom  one  ought  to  pray,  as  to  the 
chaste  goddess  Vesta !  Yes,  my  dear,  beloved  child,  here  we 
will,  as  you  say,  pass  nights  full  of  blissful  pleasure  ;  and  may 
I  be  reprobate  and  damned,  if  I  should  ever  be  capable  of  be- 
traying this  sweet,  guileless  confidence  with  which  you  favor 
me,  and  sully  your  angel  purity  !  " 

"  Ah,  we  will  be  very  happy,  Seymour !  "  said  she,  smiling. 
"  I  lack  only  one  thing — a  friend,  to*  whom  I  can  tell  my 
happiness,  to  whom  I  can  speak  of  you.  Oh,  it  often  seems 


HENRY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COURT.  205 

to  me  as  if  this  love,  which  must  always  be  concealed,  always 
shut  up,  must  at  last  burst  my  breast ;  as  if  this  secret  must 
with  violence  break  a  passage,  and  roar  like  a  tempest  over 
the  whole  world.  Seymour,  I  want  a  confidante  of  my  happi- 
ness and  my  love." 

"  Guard  yourself  well  against  desiring  to  seek  such  a  one  !  " 
exclaimed  Seymour,  anxiously.  "  A  secret  that  three  know,  is 
a  secret  no  more  ;  an,d  one  day  your  confidante  will  betray  us." 

"  Not  so  ;  I  know  a  woman  who  would  be  incapable  of 
that — a  woman  who  loves  me  well  enough  to  keep  my  secret 
as  faithfully  as  I  myself;  a  woman  who  could  be  more  than 
merely  a  confidante,  who  could  be  the  protectress  of  our  love. 
Oh,  believe  me,  if  we  could  gain  her  to  our  side,  then  our  fu- 
ture would  be  a  happy  and  blessed  one,  and  we  might  easily 
succeed  in  obtaining  the  king's  consent  to  our  marriage." 

"  And  who  is  this  woman  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  queeen." 

"  The  queen  !  "  cried  Thomas  Seymour,  with  such  an  ex- 
pression of  horror  that  Elizabeth  trembled ;  "  the  queen  your 
confidante?  But  that  is  impossible!  That  would  be  plunging 
us  both  inevitably  into  ruin.  Unhappy  child,  be  very  careful 
not  to  mention  even  a  word,  a  syllable  of  your  relation  to 
me.  Be  very  careful  not  to  betray  to  her,  even  by  the  slight- 
c-t  intimation,  that  Thomas  Seymour  is  not  indifferent  to  you  ! 
Ah,  her  wrath  would  dash  to  pieces  you  and  me  !  " 

"  And  why  do  you  believe  that  ?  "  asked  Elizabeth,  gloomily. 
"  Why  do  you  suppose  that  Catharine  would  fly  into  a  passion 
because  Earl  Seymour  loves  me  ?  Or  how  ? — it  is  she,  per- 
haps, that  you  love,  and  you  dare- not  therefore  let  her  know 
that  you  have  sworn  your  love  to  mo  also?  Ah,  I  now  sco 
through  it  all ;  I  understand  it  all !  You  love  the  queen — 
her  only.  For  that  reason  you  will  not  go  to  the  chapel  with 
me  ;  for  that  reason  you  swore  that  you  would  not  marry  the 
Duchess  of  Richmond ;  and  therefore — oh,  my  presentiment 
did  not  «!»•(•(  i\f  nu — tlim-foro  that  furious  ride  in  Epping 
Forest  to-day.  Ah,  the  queen's  horse  must  of  course  be- 


206  1IENKY   VHI.    AUD   HIS   COUKT. 

come  raving,  and  run  away,  that  his  lordship,  the  master  of 
horse,  might  follow  his  lady,  and  with  her  get  lost  in  the 
thicket  of  the  woods  ! — And  now,"  said  she,  her  eyes  flashing 
with  anger,  and  raising  her  hand  to  heaven  as  if  taking  an  oath, 
"  now  I  say  to  you :  Take  heed  to  yourself!  Take  heed  to  your- 
self, Seymour,  that  you  do  not,  even  by  a  single  word  or  a  sin- 
gle syllable,  betray  your  secret,  for  that  word  would  crush  you  ! 
Yes,  I  feel  it,  that  I  am  no  bastard,  that  I,am  my  father's  own 
daughter ;  I  feel  it  in  this  wrath  and  this  jealousy  that  rages 
within  me  !  Take  heed  to  yourself,  Seymour,  for  I  will  go 
hence  and  accuse  .you  to  the  king,  and  the  traitor's  head  will 
fall  upon  the  scaffold  ! " 

She  was  beside  herself.  With  clinched  fists  and  a  threat- 
ening air  she  paced  the  room  up  and  down.  Tears  gushed 
from  her  eyes  ;  but  she  shook  them  out  of  her  eyelashes,  so 
that  they  fell  scattering  about  her  like  pearls.  Her  father's 
impetuous  and  untractable  nature  stirred  within  her,  and  his 
blood  seethed  in  her  veins. 

But  Thomas  Seymour  had  already  regained  his  self-com- 
mand and  composure.  He  approached  the"  princess  and  de- 
spite her  struggles  clasped  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Little  fool ! "  said  he,  between  his  kisses.  "  Sweet,  dear 
fool,  how  beautiful  you  are  in  your  anger,  and  how  I  love  you 
for  it !  Jealousy  is  becoming  to  love  ;  and  I  do  not  complain, 
though  you  are  unjust  and  cruel  toward  me.  The  queen  has 
much  too  cold  and  proud  a  heart  ever  to  be  loved  by  any  man. 
Ah,  only  to  think  this  is  already  treason  to  her  virtue  and 
modesty ;  and  surely  she  has  not  deserved  this  from  us  two, 
that  we  should  disdain  and  insult  her.  She  is  the  first  that 
has  always  been  just  to  you ;  and  to  me  she  has  ever  been 
only  a  gracious  mistress  ! "  • 

"  It  is  true,"  murmured  Elizabeth,  completely  ashamed  ; 
"  she  is  a  true  friend  and  mother ;  and  I  have  her  to  thank  for 
my  present  position  at  this  court." 

Then,  after  a  pause,  she  said,  smiling,  and  extending  her 
hand  to  the  earl :  "  You  are  right.  It  would  be  a  crime  to 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  207 

suspect  her ;  and  I  am  a  fool.     Forgive  me,   Seymour,  for- 
give my  absurd   and  childish  anger ;  and  I  promise  you  in 
return  to  betray  our  secret  to  no  one,  not  even  to  the  queen." 
/   "  Do  you  swear  that  to  me  ?  " 

" I  swear  it  to  you  !  and  I  swear  to  you  more  than  that :  I 
will  never  again  be  jealous  of  her." 

"  Then  you  do  but  simple  justice  to  yourself  and  to  the 
queen  also,"  said  the  earl,  with  a  smile,  as  he  drew  her  again 
to  his  arms. 

But  she  pushed  him  gently  back.  "  I  must  now  away. 
The  morning  dawns,  and  the  archbishop  awaits  me  in  the 
royal  chapel."  > 

"  And  what  will  you  say  to  him,  beloved?  " 

"  I  will  make  my  confessson  Jo  him." 

"  How  !  so  you  will  then  betray  our  love  to  him?" 

"  Oh,"  said  she,  with  a  bewitching  smile,  "  that  is  a  se- 
cret between  us  and  God  ;  and  only  to  Him  alone  can  we  con- 
fess it ;  because  He  alone  can  absolve  us  from  it.  Farewell, 
then,  Seymour,  farewell,  and  think  of  me  till  we  see  each 
other  again  !  But  when — say,  when  shall  we  meet  again  ?  " 

"  When  there  is  a  night  like  this  one,  beloved,  when  the 
moon  is  not  in  the  heavens." 

"  Oh,  then  I  could  wish  there  were  a  change  of  the  moon 
every  week,"  said  she,  with  the  charming  innocence  of  a  child. 
•'  Farewell,  Seymour,  farewell ;  we  must  part." 

She  clung  to  his  tall,  sturdy  form  as  the  ivy  twines  around 
the  trunk  of  the  oak.  Then  they  parted.  The  princess 
slipped  again  softly  and  unseen  into  her  apartments,  and 
thence  into  the  royal  chapel ;  the  earl  descended  again  the 
spiral  staircase  which  led  to  the  secret  door  to  the  garden. 

Unobserved  and  unseen  he  returned  to  his  palace ;  even 
his  valet,  who  slept  in  the  anteroom,  did  not  see  him,  as  the  earl 
crept  past  him  lightly  on  his  toes,  and  betook  himself  to  his 
sleeping-room. 

Bnt  no  sleep  came  to  his  eyes  that  night,  and  his  soul  was 
restless  and  full  of  fierce  torim-nt.  lie  was  angry  with  him- 


208  HENBY   VHI.    AND    HIS   COUET. 

self,  and  accused  himself  of  treachery  and  perfidy  ;  and  then 
again,  full  of  proud  haughtiness,  he  still  tried  to  excuse  hiin- 
self  and  to  silence  his  conscience,  which  was  sitting  in  judg- 
ment on  him. 

"  I  love  her — her  only  !  "  said  he  to  himself.  "  Catharine 
possesses  my  heart,  my  soul ;  I  am  ready  to  devote  my  whole 
life  to  her.  Yes,  I  love  her !  I  have  this  day  so  sworn  to 
her  ;  and  she  is  mine  for  all  eternity !  " 

"And  Elizabeth?"  asked  his  conscience.  "Have  you 
not  sworn  truth  and  love  to  her  also  ?  " 

"  No  !  "  said  he.  "  I  have  only  received  her  oath  ;  I  have 
not  given  her  mine  in  return.  And  when  I  vowed  never  to 
marry  the  Duchess  of  Eichmond  ;  when  I  swore  this  '  by  my 
love,'  then  I  thought  only  of  Catharine — of  that  proud,  beauti- 
ful, charming  woman,  at  once  maidenly  and  voluptuous ;  but 
not  of  this  young,  inexperienced,  wild  child — of  this  unattrac- 
tive little  princess ! " 

"  But  this  princess  may  one  day  become  a  queen,"  whis- 
pered his  ambition. 

"  That,  however,  is  very  doubtful,"  replied  he  to  himself. 
"But  it  is  certain  that  Catharine  will  one  day  be  the  regent, 
and  if  I  am  at  that  time  her  husband,  then  I  am  Regent  of 
England." 

This  was  the  secret  of  his  duplicity  and  his  double  treach- 
ery. Thomas  Seymour  loved  nothing  but  himself,  nothing  but 
his  ambition.  He  was  capable  of  risking  his  life  for  a  woman  ; 
but  for  renown  and  greatness  he  would  have  gladly  sacrificed 
this  woman. 

For  him  there  was  only  one  aim,  one  struggle :  to  become 
great  and  powerful  above  all  the  nobles  of  the  kingdom — to  be 
the  first  man  in  England.  And  to  reach  this  aim,  he  would 
be  afraid  of  no  means ;  he  would  shrink  from  no  treachery 
and  no  sin. 

Like  the  disciples  of  Loyola,  he  said,  in  justification  of 
himself,  "  the  end  sanctifies  the  means." 

And  thus  for  him  every  means  was  right  which  conducted 
him  to  the  end  ;  that  is  to  say,  to  greatness  and  glory. 


HElrtlY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  209 

He  was  firmly  convinced  that  he  loved  the  queen  ardently  ; 
and  in  his  nobler  hours  he  did  really  love  her.  Depending  on 
the  moment,  a  son  of  the  hour,  in  him  feeling  and  will  varied 
with  the  rapidity  of  lightning,  and  he  ever  was  wholly  and  com- 
pletely that  with  which  the  moment  inflamed  him. 

When,  therefore,  he  stood  before  the  queen,  he  did  not  lie 
when  he  swore  that  he  loved  her  passionately.  He  realty 
loved  her,  with  double  warmth,  since  she  had  to  his  mind  in 
some  sort  identified  herself  with  his  ambition.  He  adored 
her,  because  she  was  the  means  that  might  conduct  him  to  his 
end ;  because  she  might  some  day  hold  in  her  hands  the 
sceptre  of  England.  And  on  the  day  when  this  came  to  pass, 
he  wished  to  be  her  lover  and  her  lord.  She  had  accepted 
him  as  her  lord,  and  he  was  entirely  certain  of  his  future 
sway. 

Consequently  he  loved  the  queen,  but  his  proud  and  am- 
bitious heart  could  never  be  so  completely  animated  by  one 
love  as  that  there  should  not  be  room  in  it  for  a  second,  pro- 
vided this  second  love  presented  him  a  favorable  chance  for 
the  attainment  of  the  aim  of  his  life. 

Princess  Elizabeth  had  this  chance.  And  if  the  queen 
would  certainly  become  one  day  Regent  of  England,  yet  Eliza- 
beth might  some  day  perchance  become  queen  thereof.  Of 
course,  it  was  as  yet  only  a  perhaps,  but  one  might  manage 
out  of  this  perhaps  to  make  a  reality.  Besides,  this  young, 
passionate  child  loved  him,  and  Thomas  Seymour  was  him- 
self too  young  and  too  easily  excitable  to  be  able  to  despise  a 
love  that  presented  him  with  such  enticing  promises  and 
bright  dreams  of  the  future. 

"  It  does  not  become  man  to  live  for  love  alone,"  said  he  to 
himself  as  he  now  thought  over  the  events  of  the  night.  "  He 
must  struggle  for  the  highest  and  wish  to  reach  the  greatest, 
and  no  means  of  attaining  this  end  ought  ho  to  leave  unem- 
ployed. Besides,  my  heart  is  largo  enough  to  satisfy  a  two- 
fold love.  I  love  U^m  both — both  of  these  fair  women  who 
fetch  me  a  crown.  Let  fate  decide  to  which  of  the  two  I  shall 
one  duy  belong ! " 


210  HENEY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COtTRT. 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

HENRY  HOWARD,    EARL   OF   SURREY. 

THE  great  court  festival,  so  long  expected,  was  at  last  to 
take  place  to-day.  Knights  and  lords  were  preparing  for  the 
tournament ;  poets  and  scholars  for  the  feast  of  the  poets. 
For  the  witty  and  brave  king  wished  to  unite  the  two  in  this 
festival  to-day,  in  order  to  give  the  world  a  rare  and  great  ex- 
ample of  a  king  who  could  claim  all  virtue  and  wisdom  as  his 
own  ;  who  could  be  equally  great  as  a  hero  and  as  a  divine  ; 
equally  great  as  a  poet  and  as  a  philosopher  and  a  scholar. 

The  knights  were  to  fight  for  the  honor  of  their  ladies  ; 
the  poets  were  to  sing  their  songs,  and  John  Hey  wood  to  bring 
out  his  merry  farces.  Ay,  even  the  great  scholars  were  to  have  a 
part  in  this  festival ;  for  the  king  had  specially,  for  this,  sum- 
moned to  London  from  Cambridge,  where  he  was  then  professor 
in  the  university,  his  former  teacher  in  the  Greek  language,  the 
great  scholar  Croke,  to  whom  belonged  the  merit  of  having  first 
made  the  learned  world  of  Germany,  as  well  as  of  England, 
again  acquainted  with  the  poets  of  Greece.*  He  wished  to 
recite  with  Croke  some  scenes  from  Sophocles  to  his  wonder- 
ing court ;  and  though,  to  be  sure,  there  was  no  one  there  who 
understood  the  Greek  tongue,  yet  all,  without  doubt,  must  be  en- 
raptured with  the  wonderful  music  of  the  Greek  and  the  amaz- 
ing erudition  of  the  king. 

Preparations  were  going^on  everywhere ;  arrangements 
were  being  made  ;  every  one  was  making  his  toilet,  whether 
it  were  the  toilet  of  the  mind  or  of  the  body. 

Henry  Howard,  earl  of  Surrey,  made  his  also  ;  that  is  to 
say,  he  had  retired  to  his  cabinet,  and  was  busy  filing  away  at 
the  sonnets  which  he  expected  to  recite  to-day,  and  in  which  he 
lauded  the  beauty  and  the  grace  of  the  fair  Geraldine. 

He  had  the  paper  in  his  hand,  and  was  lying  on  the  velvet 
ottoman  which  stood  before  his  writing-table. 

*  Tytler,  page  207. 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  211 

Had  Lady  Jane  Douglas  seen  him  now,  she  would  have  been 
filled  with  painful  rapture  to  observe  how,  with  head  leaned  back 
on  the  cushion,  his  large  blue  eyes  raised  dreamily  to  heaven, 
he  smiled  and  whispered  gentle  words. 

He  was  wholly  absorbed  in  sweet  reminiscences  ;  he  was 
thinking  of  those  rapturous,  blessed  hours  which  he  a  few  days 
before  had  spent  with  his  Geraldine ;  and  as  he  thought  of 
them  he  adored  her,  and  repeated  to  her  anew  in  his  mind  his 
oath  of  eternal  love  and  inviolable  truth. 

His  enthusiastic  spirit  was  completely  filled  with  a  sweet 
melancholy ;  and  he  felt  perfectly  intoxicated  by  the  magical 
happiness  afforded  him  by  his  Geraldine. 

She  was  his — his  at  last !  After  struggles  so  long  and 
painful,  after  such  bitter  renunciation,  and  such  mournful 
resignation,  happiness  had  at  last  arisen  for  him  ;  the  never 
expected  had  at  last  become  indeed  a  reality.  Catharine 
loved  him.  With  a  sacred  oath  she  had  sworn  to  him  that  she 
would  one  day  become  his  wife ;  that  she  would  become  his 
wife  before  God  and  man. 

But  when  is  the  day  to  come  on  which  he  may  show  her 
to  the  world  as  his  consort  ?  When  will  she  be  at  length  re- 
lieved from  the  burden  of  her  royal  crown  ?  When  at  length 
will  fall  from  her  those  golden  chains  that  bind  her  to  a  tyran- 
nical and  bloodthirsty  husband — to  the  cruel  and  arrogant 
king?  When  will  Catharine  at  length  cease  to  be  queen,  in 
order  to  become  Lady  Surrey? 

Strange  !  As  he  asked  himself  this,  there  ran  over  him  a 
shudder,  and  an  unaccountable  dread  full  upon  his  soul. 

It  seemed  to  him  as  if  a  voice  whispered  to  him:  "Thou 
wilt  never  live  to  see  that-  day  !  The  king,  old  as  ho  is,  will 
nevertheless  live  longer  than  thou !  Prepare  thyself  to  die, 
for  death  is  already  at  thy  door !  " 

And  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  he  had  heard  that  voice. 
Often  before  it  had  spoken  to  him,  and  always  with  the  same 
words,  the  same  warning.  Often  it  seemed  to  him  iu  his 
dreams  as  if  lie  felt  a  cutting  pain  about  the  neck ;  and  ho 


212  HENEY  VIII.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

had  seen  a  scaffold,  from  which  his  own  head  was  rolling 
down. 

Henry  Howard  was  superstitious  ;  for  he  was  a  poet,  and 
to  poets  it  is  given  to  perceive  the  mysterious  connection  between 
the  visible  and  the  invisible  world  ;  to  believe  that  supernatural 
powers  and  invisible  forms  surround  man,  and  either  protect 
him  or  else  citrse  him. 

There  were  hours  in  which  he  believed  in  the  reality  of 
his  dreams — in  which  he  did  not  doubt  of  that  melancholy  and 
horrible  fate  which  they  foretold. 

Formerly  he  had  given  himself  up  to  it  with  smiling  res- 
ignation ;  but  now — since  he  loved  Catharine,  since  she  be- 
longed to  him — now  he  would  not  die.  Now,  when  life  held 
out  to  him  its  most  enchanting  enjoyments,  its  intoxicating  de- 
lights— now  he  would  not  leave  them — now  he  dreaded  to  die. 
He  was  therefore  cautious  and  prudent;  and,  knowing  the 
king's  malicious,  savage,  and  jealous  character,  he  had  always 
been  extremely  careful  to  avoid  every  thing  that  might  excite 
him,  that  might  arouse  the  royal  hyena  fjom  his  slumbers. 

But  it  seemed  to  him  as  though  the  kiijg  bore  him  and  his 
family  a  special  spite  ;  as  though  he  could  never  forgive  them 
that  the  consort  whom  he  most  loved,  and  who  had  the  most 
bitterly  wronged  him,  had  sprung  from  their  stock.  In  the 
king's  every  word  and  every  look,  Henry  Howard  felt  and 
was  sensible  of  this  secret  resentment  of  the  king ;  he  suspected 
that  Henry  was  only  watching  for  the  favorable  moment  when 
he  could  seize  and  strangle  him. 

He  was  therefore  on  his  guard.  For  now,  when  Geraldine 
loved  him,  his  life  belonged  no  longer  to  himself  alone  ;  she 
loved  him  ;  she  had  a  claim  on  him  ;  his  days  were,  therefore, 
hallowed  in  his  own  eyes. 

So  he  had  kept  silence  under  the  petty  annoyances  and 
vexations  of  the  king.  He  had  taken  it  even  without  mur- 
muring, and  without  demanding  satisfaction,  when  the  king 
had  suddenly  recalled  him  from  the  army  that  was  fighting 
against  France,  and  of  which  he  was  commander-in-chief,  and 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  213 

in  his  stead  had  sent  Lord  Hertford,  earl  of  Sudley,  to  the 
army  which  was  encamped  before  Boulogne  and  Montreuil. 
He  had  quietly  and  without  resentment  returned  to  his  palace  ; 
and  since  lie  could  no  longer  be  a  general  and  warrior,  he  be- 
came again  a  scholar  and  poet.  His  palace  was  now  again 
the  resort  of  the  scholars  and  writers  of  England  ;  and  he  was 
always  ready,  with  true  princely  munificence,  to  assist  op- 
pressed and  despised  talent ;  to  afford  the  persecuted  scholar 
an  asylum  in  his  palace.  He  it  was  who  saved  the  learned 
Fox  from  starvation,  and  took  him  into  his  house,  where 
Horatius  Junius  and  the  poet  Churchyard,  afterward  so  cele- 
brated, had  both  found  a  home — the  former  as  his  physician 
and  the  latter  as  his  page.* 

Love,  the  arts,  and  the  sciences,  caused  the  wounds  that 
the  king  had  given  his  ambition,  to  heal  over ;  and  he  now 
felt  no  more  rancor ;  now  he  almost  thanked  the  king.  For 
to  his  recall  only  did  he  owe  his  good  fortune ;  and  Henry, 
who  wished  to  injure  him,  had  given  him  his  sweetest  pleasure. 

He  now  smiled  as  he  thought  how  Henry,  who  had  taken 
from  him  the  baton,  had,  without  knowing  it,  given  him  in 
return  his  own  queen,  and  had  exalted  him  when  ho  wished 
to  humble  him. 

He  smiled,  and  again  took  in  hand  the  poem  in  which  ho 
wished  to  celebrate  in  song,  at  the  court  festival  that  day,  tho 
honor  and  praise  of  his  lady-love,  whom  no  one  knew,  or  even 
suspected — the  fair  Geraldine. 

"  The  verses  are  stiff,"  muttered  he  ;  "  this  language  is  so 
poor !  It  has  not  the  power  of  expressing  all  that  fulness  of 
adoration  and  ecstasy  which  I  feel.  Petrarch  was  more  fortu- 
nate in  this  respect.  His  beautiful,  flexible  language  sounds 
like  music,  and  it  is,  even  just  by  itself,  the  harmonious  ac- 
companiment of  his  love.  Ah,  Petrarch,  I  envy  thee,  and  yet 
would  not  be  like  thee.  For  thine  was  a  mournful  and  bitter- 
. sweet  lot.  Laura  never  loved  thee  ;  and  she  was  the  mother 
of  twelve  children,  not  a  single  one  of  whom  oclongcd  to  thee." 

•  Nott'i  Life  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey. 


214  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

He  laughed  with  a  sense  of  his  own  proud  success  in  love, 
and  seized  Petrarch's  sonnets,  which  lay  near  him  on  the 
table,  to  compare  his  own  new  sonnet  with  a  similar  one  of 
Petrarch's. 

He  was  so  absorbed  in  these  meditations,  that  he  had  not 
at  all  observed  that  the  hanging  which  concealed  the  door  be- 
hind him  was  pushed  aside,  and  a  marvellous  young  woman, 
resplendent  with  diamonds  and  sparkling  with  jewelry,  entered 
his  cabinet. 

For  an  instant  she  stood  still  upon  the  threshold,  and  with 
a  smile  observed  the  earl,  who  was  more  and  more  absorbed 
in  his  reading. 

She  was  of  imposing  beauty ;  her  large  eyes  blazed  and 
glowed  like  a  volcano  ;  her  lofty  brow  seemed  in  all  respects 
designed  to  wear  a  crown.  And,  indeed,  it  Avas  a  diical  coro- 
net that  sparkled  on  her  black  hair,  which  in  long  ringlets 
curled  down  to  her  full,  voluptuous  shoulders.  Her  tall  and 
majestic  form  was  clad  in  a  white  satin  dress,  richly  trimmed 
with  ermine  and  pearls ;  two  clasps  of  costly  brilliants  held 
fast  to  her  shoulders  the  small  mantilla  of  crimson  velvet, 
faced  with  ermine,  which  covered  her  back  and  fell  down  to 
her  waist. 

Thus  appeared  the  Duchess  of  Richmond,  the  widow  of 
King  Henry's  natural  son,  Henry  Richmond ;  the  sister  of 
Lord  Henry  Howard,  earl  of  Surrey  ;  and  the  daughter  of  the 
noble  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

Since  her  husband  died  and  left  her  a  widow  at  twenty, 
she  resided  in  her  brother's  palace,  and  had  placed  herself 
under  his  protection,  and  in  the  world  they  were  known  as 
"  the  affectionate  brother  and  sister." 

Ah,  how  little  knew  the  world,  which  is  ever  wont  to  judge 
from  appearances,  of  the  hatred  and  the  love  of  these  two ; 
how  little  suspicion  had  it  of  the  real  sentiments  of  this  brother 
and  sister ! 

• 

Henry  Howard  had  offered  his  sister  his  palace  as  her  resi- 
dence, because  he  hoped  by  his  presence  to  lay  on  her  impul- 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  215 

sive  and  voluptuous  disposition  a  restraint  which  should  com- 
pel her  not  to  overstep  the  bounds  of  custom  and  decency. 
Lady  Richmond  had  accepted  this  offer  of  his  palace  because 
she  was  obliged  to ;  inasmuch  as  the  avaricious  and  parsimo- 
nious king  gave  his  son's  widow  only  a  meagre  income,  and 
her  own  means  she  had  squandered  and  lavishly  thrown  away 
upon  her  lovers. 

Henry  Howard  had  thus  acted  for  the  honor  of  his  name  ; 
but  he  loved  not  his  sister ;  nay,  he  despised  her.  But  the 
Duchess  of  Richmond  hated  her  brother,  because  her  proud 
heart  felt  humbled  by  him,  and  under  obligations  of  gratitude. 

But  their  hatred  and  their  contempt  were  a  secret  that  they 
both  preserved  in  the  depths  of  the  heart,  and  which  they 
scarcely  dared  confess  to  themselves.  Both  had  veiled  this 
their  inmost  feeling  with  a  show  of  affection,  and  only  once  in 
a  while  was  one  betrayed  to  the  other  by  some  lightly  dropped 
word  or  unregarded  look. 


CHAPTER  XXHL 

BBOTHEB     AND     SISTER. 

LIGHTLY  on  the  tips  of  her  toes  the  duchess  stole  toward 
her  brother,  who  did  not  yet  observe  her.  The  thick  Turkish 
carpet  made  her  steps  inaudible.  She  already  stood  behind 
the  earl,  and  he  had  not  yet  noticed  her. 

Now  she  bent  over  his  shoulder,  and  fastened  her  sparkling 
eyes  on  the  paper  in  her  brother's  hand. 

Then  she  read  in  a  loud,  sonorous  voice  the  title  of  it : 
"  Complaint,  because  Geraldine  never  shows  herself  to  her 
lover  unless  covered  by  her  veil."*  "  Ah,"  said  the  duchess, 
laughing,  u  now,  then,  I  have  spied  out  your  secret,  and  you 
must  surrender  to  me  at  discretion.  So  you  are  in  love  ;  and 
Geraldine  is  the  name  of  the  chosen  one  to  whom  you  address 

•  Sonnet  by  Surrey.— Sec  Noll's  Life  and  Work*  of  Surrey. 


216  HENRY   VIU.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

your  poems  !  I  swear  to  you,  my  brother,  you  will  repay  me 
dear  for  this  secret." 

"  It  is  no  secret  at  all,  sister,"  said  the  earl,  with  a  quiet 
smile,  as  he  rose  from  the  divan  and  saluted  the  duchess.  "  It 
is  so  little  a  secret,  that  I  shall  recite  this  sonnet  at  the  court 
festival  this  very  evening.  I  shall  not,  therefore,  need  your 
secrecy,  Rosabella." 

"  So  the  fair  Geraldine  never  shows  herself  to  you  unless 
in  a  dark  veil,  black  as  the  night,"  said  the  duchess,  musingly. 
"  But  tell  me,  brother,  who  then  is  the  fair  Geraldine?  Of 
the  ladies  at  court,  I  know  not  a  single  one  who  bears  that 
name." 

"  So  you  see  from  that,  the  whole  is  only  a  fiction — a  crea- 
tion of  my  fancy." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  she,  smiling  ;  "  one  does  not  write  with 
such  warmth  and  enthusiasm  unless  he  is  really  in  love.  You 
sing  your  lady-love,  and  you  give  her  another  name.  That  is 
very  plain.  Do  not  deny  it,  Henry,  for  I  know  indeed  that 
you  have  a  lady-love.  It  may  be  read  in  your  eyes.  And 
look  you  !  it  is  on  account  of  this  dear  one  that  I  have  come 
to  you.  It  pains  me,  Henry,  that  you  have  no  confidence  in 
me,  and  allow  me  no  share  in  your  joys  and  sorrows.  Do  you 
not  know,  then,  how  tenderly  I  love  you,  my  dear,  noble 
brother?" 

She  put  her  arm  tenderly  round  his  neck,  and  wanted  to 
kiss  him.  He  bent  his  head  back,  and  laying  his  hand  on  her 
rosy,  round  chin,  he  looked  inquiringly  and  smilingly  into  her 
eyes. 

"  You  want  something  of  me,  Rosabella  !  "  said  he.  "  I 
have  never  yet  enjoyed  your  tenderness  and  sisterly,  affection, 
except  when  you  needed  my  services." 

"  How  suspicious  you  are  !  "  cried  she,  with  a  charming, 
pout,  as  she  shook  his  hand  away  from  her  face.  "  I  have 
come  from  wholly  disinterested  sympathy  ;  partly  to  warn  you, 
partly  to  find  out  whether  your  love  is  perchance  fixed  upon  a 
lady  that  would  render  my  warning  useless." 


HENET  Vm.   AND  HIS   COUET.  217 

"  Well,  so  you  see,  Rosabella,  that  I  was  right,  and  that 
your  tenderness  was  not  aimless.  Now,  then,  you  want  to 
warn  me  ?  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  I  need  any  warning." 

"  Nay,  brother !  For  it  would  certainly  be  very  dangerous 
and  mischievous  for  you,  if  your  love  should  chance  not  to  be 
in  accordance  with  the  command  of  the  king." 

A  momentary  flush  spread  over  Henry  Howard's  face,  and 
his  brow  darkened. 

"With  the  king's  command?"  asked  he,  in  astonishment. 
"I  did  not  know  that  Henry  the  Eighth  could  control  my 
heart.  And,  at  any  rate,  I  would  never  concede  him  that 
right.  Say  quickly,  then,  sister,  what  is  it?  What  means 
this  about  the  king's  command,  and  what  matrimonial  scheme 
have  you  women  been  again  contriving?  For  I  well  know 
that  you  and  my  mother  have  no  rest  with  the  thought  of 
seeing  me  still  unmarried.  You  want  to  bestow  on  me, 
whether  or  no,  the  happiness  of  marriage  ;  yet,  nevertheless, 
it  appears  to  me  that  you  both  have  sufficiently  learned  from 
experience  that  this  happiness  is  only  imaginary,  and  that 
marriage  in  reality  is,  at  the  very  least,  the  vestibule  of  hell." 

"  It  is  true,"  laughed  the  duchess  ;  "  the  only  happy  mo- 
ment of  my  married  life  was  when  my  husband  died.  For  in 
that  I  am  more  fortunate  than  my  mother,  who  has  her  tyrant 
still  living  about  her.  Ah,  how  I  pity  my  mother  !  " 

"  Dare  not  to  revile  our  noble  father ! "  cried  the  earl, 
almost  threateningly.  "  God  alone  knows  how  much  he  has 
suffered  from  our  mother,  and  how  much  he  still  suffers.  He 
is  not  to  blame  for  this  unhappy  marriage.  But  you  have  not 
come  to  talk  over  these  sad  and  disgraceful  family  matters, 
sister  !  You  wish  to  warn  me,  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  warn  you  !  "  said  the  duchess,  tenderly,  as  she  took 
her  brother's  hand  and  led  him  to  the  ottoman.  "  Come,  lot 
us  sit  down  here,  Ili-nry,  and  let  us  for  once  chat  confidentially 
and  cordially,  as  becomes  brother  and  sister.  Tell  me,  who 
is  Gerald  ine  ?  " 

"  A  phantom,  an  ideal  1     I  have  told  you  that  already." 
10 


218  HENET  Vm.    AKD   HIS   COURT. 

*'  You  really  love,  then,  no  lady  at  this  court?" 

"  No,  none  !  There  is  among  all  these  ladies,  with  whom 
the  queen  has  surrounded  herself,  not  one  whom  I  am  able  to 
love." 

"  Ah,  your  heart  then  is  free,  Henry ;  and  you  will  be  so 
much  more  easily  inclined  to  comply  with  the  king's  wish." 

"  What  does  the  king  wish  ?  " 

She  laid  her  head  on  her  brother's  shoulder,  and  said  in  a 
low  whisper :  "  That  the  Howard  and  Seymour  families  be  at 
last  reconciled ;  that  at  last  they  may  reconcile  the  hatred, 
which  has  for  centuries  separated  them,  by  means  of  a  firm 
and  sincere  bond  of  love." 

"Ah,  the  king  wants  that!"  cried  .the  earl,  scornfully. 
"  Forsooth,  now,  he  has  made  a  good  beginning  toward  bring- 
ing about  this  reconciliation.  He  has  insulted  me  before  all 
Europe,  by  removing  me  from  my  command,  and  investing  a 
Seymour  with  my  rank  and  dignity ;  and  he  requires  that  I 
in  return  shall  love  this  arrogant  earl,  who  has  robbed  me  of 
what  is  my  due;  who  has  long  intrigued  and  besieged  the 
king's  ears  with  lies  and  calumnies,  till  he  has  gained  his  end 
and  supplanted  me." 

"  It  is  true  the  king  .recalled  you  from  the  army  ;  but  this 
was  done  in  order  to  give  you  the  first  place  at  his  court — to 
appoint  you  lord  chamberlain  to  the  queen." 

Henry  Howard  trembled  and  was  silent.  "  It  is  true,"  he 
then  muttered  ;  *'  I  am  obliged  to  the  king  for  this  place." 

"  And  then,"  continued  the  duchess,  with  an  innocent  air, 
"  then  I  do  not  believe  either  that  Lord  Hertford  is  to  blame 
for  your  recall.  To  prove  this  to  you,  he  has  made  a  proposal 
to  the  king,  and  to  me  also,  which  is  to  testify  to  you  and  to 
all  the  world  how  great  an  honor  Lord  Hertford  esteems  it  to 
be  allied  to  the  Howards,  and  above  all  things  to  you,  by  the 
raost  sacred  bonds." 

"  Ah,  that  noble,  magnanimous  lord  ! "  cried  Henry  Howard, 
with  a  bitter  laugh.  "  As  matters  do  not  advance  well  with 
laurels,  he  tries  the  myrtles  ;  since  he  can  win  no  battles,  he 


HENET   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTTRT.       .  219 


wants  to  make  marriages.  Now,  sister,  let  me  hear  what  he 
has  to  propose." 

"  A  double  marriage,  Henry.  He  asks  my  hand  for  his 
brother  Thomas  Seymour,  provided  you  choose  his  sister,  Lady 
Margaret,  for  your  wife." 

"  Never  !  "  cried  the  earl.  "  Never  will  Henry  Howard 
present  his  hand  to  a  daughter  of  that  house  ;  never  conde- 
scend so  far  as  to  elevate  a  Seymour  to  be  his  wife.  That  is 
well  enough  for  a  king  —  not  for  a  Howard  !  " 

"  Brother,  you  insult  the  king  !  " 

*4  Well,  I  insult  him,  then  !  He  has  insulted  me,  too,  in 
arranging  this  base  scheme."  . 

"  Brother,  reflect  ;  the  Seymours  are  powerful,  and  stand 
high  in  the  king's  favor." 

"  Yes,  in  the  king's  favor  they  stand  high  !  But  the  peo- 
ple know  their  proud,  cruel,  and  arrogant  disposition  ;  and 
the  people  and  nobility  despise  them.  The  Seymours  have  the 
voice  of  the  king  in  their  favor  ;  the  Howards  the  voice  of  the 
whole  country,  and  that  is  of  more  consequence.  The  king 
can  exalt  the  Seymours,  for  they  stand  far  beneath  him.  He 
cannot  exalt  the  Howards,  for  they  are  his  equals.  Nor  can 
he  degrade  them.  Catharine  died  on  the  scaffold  —  the  king 
became  thereby  only  a  hangman  —  our  escutcheon  was  not  sul- 
lied by  that  act  !  " 

"  These  are  very  proud  words,  Henry  !  " 

"  They  become  a  son  of  the  Norfolks,  Kosabella  !  Ah,  see 
that  petty  Lord  Hertford,  Earl  Seymour.  He  covets  a  ducal 
coronet  for  his  sister.  He  wants  to  give  her  to  me  to  wife  ; 
for  as  soon  as  our  poor  father  dies,  I  wear  his  coronet  !  The 
arrogant  upstarts  I  For  the  sister's  escutcheon,  my  coronet  ; 
for  the  brother's,  your  coronet.  Never,  say  I,  shall  that  be  1  " 

The  duchess  had  become  pale,  and  a  tremor  ran  through 
her  proud  form.  Her  eyes  flashed,  and  an  angry  word  was 
already  suspended  on  her  lips  ;  but  she  still  held  it  back.  She 
violently  forced  herself  to  calmness  and  self-possession. 

"  Consider  once  more,  Henry,"  said  ehe,  "  do  not  decide  at 


220  HENEY  vnr.  AND  HIS  COUBT. 

once.  You  speak  of  our  greatness;  but  you  do  not  bear  ic 
mind  tbe  power  of  the  Seymours.  I  tell  you  they  are  power- 
ful enough  to  tread  us  in  the  dust,  despite  all  our  greatness. 
And  they  are  not  only  powerful  at  the  present ;  they  will  be  so 
in  the  future  also ;  for  it  is  well  known  in  what  disposition 
and  what  way  of  thinking  the  Prince  of  Wales  is  trained  up. 
The  king  is  old,  weak,  and  failing ;  death  lurks  behind  his 
throne,  and  will  soon  enough  press  him  in  his  arms.  Then 
Edward  is  king.  With  him,  the  heresy  of  Protestantism  tri- 
umphs ;  and  however  great  and  numerous  our  party  may  be, 
yet  we  shall  be  powerless  and  subdued.  Yes,  we  shall  be  the 
oppressed  and  persecuted." 

"  We  shall  then  know  how  to  fight,  and  if  it  must  be  so,  to 
die  also  !  "  cried  her  brother.  "It is  more  honorable  to  die  on 
the  battle-field  than  to  purchase  life  and  humiliation." 

"  Yes,  it  is  honorable  to  die  on  the  field  of  battle ;  but, 
Henry,  it  is  a  disgrace  to  come  to  an  end  upon  the  scaffold.  And 
that,  my  brother,  may  be  your  fate,  if  you  do  not  this  time 
bend  your  pride  ;  if  you  do  not  grasp  the  hand  that  Lord  Hert- 
ford extends  to  you  in  reconciliation,  but  mortally  offend  him. 
He  will  take  bloody  vengeance,  when  once  he  comes  into 
power." 

"  Let  him  do  it,  if  he  can  ;  my  life  is  in  God's  hand  !  My 
head  belongs  to  the  king,  but  my  heart  to  myself;  and  that  I 
will  never  degrade  to  merchandise,  which  I  may  barter  for  a 
little  security  and  royal  favor." 

"  Brother,  I  conjure  you,  consider  it !  "  cried  the  duchess, 
no  longer  able  to  restrain  her  passionate  disposition,  and  all 
ablaze  in  her  savage  wrath.  "  Dare  not  in  proud  arrogance 
to  destroy  my  future  also  !  You  may  die  on  the  scaffold,  if 
you  choose  ;  but  I — I  will  be  happy  ;  I  will  at  last,  after  so 
many  years  of  sorrow  and  disgrace,  have  my  share  of  life's 
joys  also.  It  is  my  due,  and  I  will  not  relinquish  it ;  and  you 
shall  not  be  allowed  to  tear  it  from  me.  Know,  then,  my 
brother,  I  love  Thomas  Seymour  ;  all  my  desire,  all  my  hope 
is  fixed  on  him  ;  and  I  will  not  tear  this  love  out  of  my  heart ; 
I  will  not  give  him  up." 


HENEY   Vm.    AND    HIS   COURT.  221 

**  Well,  if  you  love  him,  marry  him,  then  !  "  exclaimed  her 
brother.  "  Become  the  wife  of  this  Thomas  Seymour !  Ask 
the  duke,  our  father,  for  his  consent  to  this  marriage,  and  I 
am  certain  he  will  not  refuse  you,  for  he  is  prudent  and  cau- 
tious, and  will,  better  than  I,  calculate  the  advantages  which 
a  connection  with  the  Seymours  may  yield  our  family.  Do 
that,  sister,  and  marry  your  dearly  beloved.  I  do  not  hinder 
you." 

"  Yes,  you  do  hinder  me — you  alone  !  "  cried  his  sister, 
flaming  with  wrath.  "  You  will  refuse  Margaret's  hand  ;  you 
will  give  the  Seymours  mortal  offence.  You  thereby  make 
my  union  with  Thomas  Seymour  impossible !  In  the  proud 
selfishness  of  your  haughtiness,  you  see  not  that  you  are  dash- 
ing to  atoms  my  happiness,  while  you  are  thinking  only  of 
your  desire  to  offend  the  Seymours.  But  I  tell  you,  I  love 
Thomas  Seymour — nay,  I  adore  him.  He  is  my  happiness, 
my  future,  my  eternal  bliss.  Therefore  have  pity  on  me, 
Henry  !  Grant  me  this  happiness,  which  I  implore  you  for  as 
Heaven's  blessing.  Prove  to  me  that  you  love  me,  and  are 
willing  to  make  this  sacrifice  for  me.  Henry,  on  my  knees,  I 
conjure  you !  Give  me  the  man  I  love ;  bend  your  proud 
head;  become  Margaret  Seymour's  husband,  that  Thomas 
Seymour  may  become  mine." 

She  had  actually  sunk  upon  her  knees ;  and  her  face 
deluged  with  tears,  bewitchingly  beautiful  in  her  passionate 
emotion,  she  looked  up  imploringly  to  her  brother. 

But  the  earl  did  not  lift  her  up ;  on  the  contrary,  with  a 
smile,  he  fell  back  a  step.  "  How  long  is  it  now,  duchess," 
asked  he,  mockingly,  "  since  you  swore  that  your  secretary, 
Mr.  Wilford,  was  the  man  whom  you  loved?  Positively,  I 
believed  you — I  believed  it  till  I  one  day  found  you  in  the  arms 
of  your  page.  On  that  day,  I  swore  to  myself  never  to  believe 
you  again,  though  you  vowed  to  me,  with  an  oath  ever  so 
sacred,  that  you  loved  a  man.  Well,  now,  you  love  a  man  ; 
but  what  one,  is  a  matter  of  indifference.  To-day  his  name 
is  Thomas,  to-morrow  Archibald,  or  Edward,  as  you  please  ! " 


222  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

For  the  first  time  the  earl  drew  the  veil  away  from  his 
heart,  and  let  his  sister  see  all  the  contempt  and  auger  that  he 
felt  toward  her. 

The  duchess  also  felt  wounded  by  his  words,  as  by  a  red- 
hot  iron. 

She  sprang  from  her  knees  ;  and  with  flurried  breath,  with 
looks  flashing  with  rage,  every  muscle  of  her  countenance 
convulsed  and  trembling,  there  she  stood  before  her  brother. 
She  was  a  woman  no  more  ;  she  was  a  lioness,  that,  without 
compassion  or  pity,  will  devour  him  who  has  dared  irritate 
her. 

"  Earl  of  Surrey,  you  are  a  shameless  wretch !  "  said  she, 
with  compressed,  quivering  lips.  "  Were  I  a  man,  I  would  slap 
you  in  the  face,  and  call  you  a  scoundrel.  But,  by  the  eternal 
God,  you  shall  not  say  that  you  have  done  this  with  impunity  ! 
Once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  I  now  ask  you,  will  you 
comply  with  Lord  Hertford's  wish?  Will  you  marry  Lady 
Margaret,  and  accompany  me  with  Thomas  Seymour  to  the 
altar?" 

u  No,  I  will  not,  and  I  will  never  do  it !  "  exclaimed  her 
brother,  solemnly.  "  The  Howards  bow  not  before  the  Sey- 
mours ;  and  never  will  Henry  Howard  marry  a  wife  that  he 
does  not  love  ! " 

"  Ah,  you  love  her  not ! "  said  she,  breathless,  gnashing  her 
teeth.  "  You  do  not  love  Lady  Margaret ;  and  for  this  reason 
must  your  sister  renounce  her  love,  and  give  up  this  man 
whom  she  adores.  Ah,  you  love  not  this  sister  of  Thomas 
Seymour?  She  is  not  the  Geraldine  whom  you  adore — to 
whom  you  dedicate  your  verses  !  Well,  now,  I  will  find  her 
out — your  Geraldine.  I  will  discover  her  ;  and  then,  woe  to 
you  and  to  her  !  You  refuse  me  your  hand  to  lead  me  to  the 
altar  with  Thomas  Seymour  ;  well,  now,  I  will  one  day  extend 
you  my  hand  to  conduct  you  and  your  Geraldine  to  the  scaf- 
fold ! " 

And  as  she  saw  how  the  earl  startled  and  turned  pale,  she 
continued  with  a  scornful  laugh :  "  Ah,  you  shrink,  and  horror 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS    COUBT.  223 

creeps  over  you !  Does  your  conscience  admonish  you  that 
the  hero,  rigid  in  virtue,  may  yet  sometimes  make  a  false 
step  ?  You  thought  to  hide  your  secret,  if  you  enveloped  it 
in  the  veil  of  night,  like  your  Geraldine,  who,  as  you  wailing- 
ly  complain  in  that  poem  there,  never  shows  herself  to  you 
without  a  veil  as  black  as  night.  Just  wait,  wait !  I  will 
strike  a  light  for  you,  before  which  all  your  night-like  veils 
shall  bo  torn  in  shreds ;  I  will  light  up  the  night  of  your 
secret  with  a  torch  which  will  be  large  enough  to  set  on  fire 
the  fagot-piles  about  the  stake  to  which  you  and  your  Geral- 
dine arc  to  go !"" 

"  Ah,  now  you  let  me  see  for  the  first  time  your  real  coun- 
tenance," said  Henry  Howard,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 
"  The  angel's  mask  falls  from  your  face ;  and  I  behold  the 
fury  that  was  hidden  beneath  it.  Now  you  are  your  mother's 
own  daughter  ;  and  at  this  moment  I  comprehend  for  the  first 
time  what  my  father  has  suffered,  and  why  he  shunned  not 
even  the  disgrace  of  a  divorce,  just  to  be  delivered  from  such 
a  Megaera." 

"  Oh,  I  thank  you,  thank  you  !  "  cried  she,  with  a  savage 
laugh.  "  You  are  filling  up  the  measure  of  your  iniquity.  It 
is  not  enough  that  you  drive  your  sister  to  despair  ;  you  revile 
your  mother  also  !  You  say  that  we  are  furies  ;  well,  indeed, 
for  we  shall  one  day  be  such  to  you,  and  we  will  show  you 
our  Medusa-face,  before  which  you  will  be  stiffened  to  stone. 
Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey,  from  this  hour  out,  I  am 
your  implacable  enemy  ;  look  out  for  the  head  on  your  shoul- 
ders, for  my  hand  is  raised  against  it,  and  in  my  hand  is  a 
sword !  Guard  well  the  secret  that  sleeps  in  your  breast ;  for 
you  have  transformed  me  to  a  vampire  that  will  suck  your 
heart's  blood.  You  have  reviled  my  mother,  and  I  will  go 
hence  and  tell  her  of  it.  She  will  believe  me ;  for  she  well 
knows  that  you  hate  her,  and  that  you  are  a  genuine  son  of 
your  father ;  that  is  to  say,  a  canting  hypocrite,  a  miserable 
fellow,  who  carries  virtue  on  the  lips  ami  crime  in  the  h 

"Cease,  I  say,  cease,"  cried  the  earl,  "  if  you  do  not  want 
me  to  forget  that  you  arc  a  woman  uud  my  sister ! " 


224:  HENKY   VIII.    AND    HIS   COUKT. 

" Forget  it  by  all  means,"  said  she,  scornfully.  "I  have 
forgotten  long  since  that  you  are  my  brother,  as  you  have  long 
since  forgotten  that  you  are  the  son  of  your  mother.  Fare- 
well, Earl  of  Surrey  ;  I  leave  you  and  your  palace,  and  will 
from  this  hour  out  abide  with  my  mother,  the  divorced  wife 
of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.  But  mark  you  this :  we  two  are 
separated  from  you  in  our  love — but  not  in  our  hate  !  Our 
hatred  to  you  remains  eternal  and  unchangeable  ;  and  one  day 
it  will  crush  you  !  Farewell,  Earl  of  Surrey  ;  we  meet  again 
in  the  king's  presence  ! " 

She  rushed  to  the  door.  Henry  Howard  did  not  hold  her 
back.  He  looked  after  her  with  a  smile  as  she  left  the 
cabinet,  and  murmured,  almost  compassionately :  "  Poor 
woman  !  I  have,  perhaps,  cheated  her  out  of  a  lover,  and  she 
will  never  forgive  me  that.  Well,  let  it  be  so  !  Let  her,  as 
much  as  she  pleases,  be  my  enemy,  and  torment  me  with  petty 
pin-prickings,  if  she  be  but  unable  to  harm  her.  I  hope, 
though,  that  I  have  guarded  well  my  secret,  and  she  could  not 
suspect  the  real  cause  of  my  refusal.  Ah,  I  was  obliged  to 
wrap  myself  in  that  foolish  family  pride,  and  make  haughti- 
ness a  cloak  for  my  love.  Oh,  Geraldine,  thee  would  I  choose, 
wert  thou  the  daughter  of  a  peasant ;  and  I  would  not  hold  my 
escutcheon  tarnished,  if  for  thy  sake  I  must  draw  a  pale 
athwart  it. — But  hark !  It  is  striking  four !  My  service 
begins  !  Farewell,  Geraldiue,  I  must  to  the  queen  !  " 

And  while  he  betook  himself  to  his  dressing-room,  to  put 
on  his  state  robes  for  the  great  court  feast,  the  Duchess  of 
Richmond  returned  to  her  own  apartments,  trembling  and 
quivering  with  rage.  She  traversed  these  with  precipitate 
haste,  and  entered  her  boudoir,  where  Earl  Douglas  was  wait- 
ing, for  her. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  stepping  towai'd  her  with  his  soft,  lurk- 
ing smile,  "  has  he  consented  ?  " 

u  No,"  said  she,  gnashing  her  teeth.  "  He  swore  he  would 
never  enter  into  an  alliance  with  the  Seymours." 

"  I  well  knew  that,"  muttered  the  earl.  "  And  what  do 
you  decide  upon  now,  my  lady  ?  " 


HENKY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COUET.  225 

"  I  will  have  revenge  !  He  wants  to  hinder  me  from  being 
happy  ;  I  will  for  that  make  him  unhappy  !  " 

"  You  will  do  well  in  that,  my  lady ;  for  he  is  an  apostate 
and  perjurer ;  an  unfaithful  son  of  the  Church.  He  inclines 
to  the  heretical  sect,  and  has  forgotten  the  faith  of  his  fathers." 

"  I  know  it !  "  said  she,  breathlessly. 

Earl  Douglas  looked  at  her  in  astonishment,  and  continued : 
"  But  he  is  not  merely  an  atheist,  he  is  a  traitor  also  ;  and  more 
than  once  he  has  reviled  his  king,  to  whom  he,  in  his  pride  of 
heart,  believes  himself  far  superior." 

"  I  know  it !  "  repeated  she. 

"  So  proud  is  he,"  continued  the  earl,  "  so  full  of  blasphe- 
mous haughtiness,  that  he  might  lay  his  hands  upon  the  crown 
of  England." 

"  I  know  it ! "  said  the  duchess  again.  But  as  she  saw  the 
earl's  astonished  and  doubting  looks,  she  added,  with  an  in- 
human smile :  "  I  know  every  thing  that  you  want  that  I 
should  know  !  Only  impute  crimes  to  him  ;  only  accuse  him  ; 
I  will  substantiate  every  thing,  testify  to  every  thing  that  will 
bring  him  to  ruin.  My  mother  is  our  ally ;  she  hates  the 
father  as  hotly  as  I  the  son.  Bring  your  accusation,  then,  Earl 
Douglas  ;  we  are  your  witnesses  !  " 

"  Nay,  indeed,  my  lady,"  said  he,  with  a  gentle,  insinuating 
smile.  "  I  know  nothing  at  all ;  I  have  heard  nothing ;  how, 
then,  can  I  bring  an  accusation  ?  You  know  all ;  to  you  he 
has  spoken.  You  must  be  his  accuser !  " 

"  Well,  then,  conduct  me  to  the  king  1  "  said  she. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  give  you  some  more  advice  first?  " 

"  Do  so,  Earl  Douglas." 

"  Bo  very  cautious  in  the  choice  of  your  means.  Do  not 
waste  them  all  at  once,  so  that  if  your  first  thrust  does  not  hit, 
you  may  not  be  afterward  without  weapons.  It  is  better, 
and  far  less  dangerous,  to  surely  kill  the  enemy  that  you  hate 
with  a  slow,  creeping  poison,  gradually  and  day  by  day,  than 
to  murder  him  at  once  with  n  dagger,  which  may,  however, 
break  on  a  rib  and  become  ineffective.  Tell,  then,  what  you 


226  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS"  COURT. 

know,  not  at  once,  but  little  by  little.  Administer  your  drug 
which  is  to  make  the  king  furious,  gradually  ;  and  if  you  do 
not  hit  your  enemy  to-day,  think  that  you  will  do  it  so  much 
the  more  surely  to-morrow.  Nor  do  you  forget  that  we  have 
to  punish,  not  merely  the  heretic  Henry  Howard,  but  above 
all  things  the  heretical  queen,  whose  unbelief  will  call  down 
the  wrath  of  the  Most  High  upon  this  land." 

"  Come  to  the  king,"  said  she,  hastily.  "  On  the  way  you 
can  tell  me  what  I  ought  to  make  known  and  what  conceal. 
I  will  do  implicitly  what  you  say.  Now,  Henry  Howard," 
said  she  softly  to  herself,  "  hold  yourself  ready  ;  the  contest 
begins  !  In  your  pride  and  selfishness  you  have  destroyed  the 
happiness  of  my  life — my  eternal  felicity.  I  loved  Thomas 
Seymour ;  I  hoped  by  his  side  to  find  the  happiness  that  I 
have  so  long  and  so  vainly  sought  in  the  crooked  paths  of  life. 
By  this  love  my  soul  would  have  been  saved  and  restored  to 
virtue.  My  brother  has  willed  otherwise.  He  has,  therefore, 
condemned  me  to  be  a  demon,  instead  of  an  angel.  I  will 
fulfil  my  destiny.  I  will  be  an  evil  spirit  to  him."  * 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
THE   QUEEN'S    TOILET. 

THE  festivities  of  the  day  are  concluded,  and  the  gallant 
knights  and  champions,  who  hare  to-day  broken  a  lance  for 
the  honor  of  their  ladies,  may  rest  from  their  victories  upon 
their  laurels.  The  tournament  of  arms  was  over,  and  the 
tournament  of  mind  was  about  to  begin.  The  knights,  there- 
fore, retired  to  exchange  the  coat-of-mail  for  gold-embroidered 

*  The  Earl  of  Surrey,  by  his  refusal  to  marry  Margaret  Seymour,  gave  occasion  to 
the  rapture  of  the  proposed  alliance  between  Thomas  Seymour  and  the  Duchess  of 
Richmond,  his  sister.  After  that,  the  duchess  mortally  hated  him  and  combined  with 
his  enemies  against  him.  The  Duchess  of  Richmond  is  designated  by  all  the  histo- 
rians of  her  time,  as  "  the  most  beautiful  woman  of  her  century,  but  also  a  shameless 
Messalina."— See  Tytler,  page  390.  Also  Burnet,  vol.  i.,  page  134 ;  Leti,  vol.  i.,  pago 
83 ;  and  Nott's  Life  of  Henry  Howard. 


•   HENKY   Vin.   AND   HIS   COUET.  227 

velvet  apparel;  the  ladies  to  put  on  their  lighter  evening 
dresses ;  and  the  queen,  likewise  with  this  design,  had  with- 
drawn to  her  dressing-room,  while  the  ladies  and  lords  of  her 
court  were  in  attendance  in  the  large  anteroom  to  escort  her 
to  the  throne. 

Without,  it  was  beginning  to  grow  dusky,  and  the  twilight  cast 
its  long  shadows  across  this  hall,  in  which  the  cavaliers  of  the 
court  were  walking  up  and  down  with  the  ladies,  and  discuss- 
ing the  particularly  important  events  of  the  day's  tourney. 

The  Earl  of  Sudley,  Thomas  Seymour,  had  borne  off  the 
prize  of  the  day,  and  conquered  his  opponent,  Henry  Howard. 
The  king  had  been  in  raptures  on  this  account.  For  Thomas 
Seymour  had  been  for  some  time  his  favorite  ;  perhaps  because 
lie  was  the  declared  enemy  of  the  Howards.  He  had,  there- 
fore, added  to  the  golden  laurel  crown  which  the  queen  had 
presented  to  the  earl  as  the  award,  a  diamond  pin,  and  com- 
manded the  queen  to  fasten  it  in  the  earl's  ruff  with  her  own 
hand.  Catharine  had  done  so  with  sullen  countenance  and 
averted  looks  ;  and  even  Thomas  Seymour  had  shown  himself 
only  a  very  little  delighted  with  the  proud  honor  with  which 
the  queen,  at  her  husband's  command,  was  to  grace  him. 

The  rigid  popish  party  at  court  formed  new  hopes  from 
this,  and  dreamed  of  the  queen's  conversion  and  return  to  the 
true,  pure  faith  ;  while  the  1'rotcstant,  "  the  heretical"  party, 
looked  to  the  future  with  gloomy  despondency,  and  were  afraid 
of  being  robbed  of  their  most  powerful  support  and  their  most 
influential  patronage. 

Nobody  had  seen  that,  as  the  queen  arose  to  crown  the 
victor,  Thomas  Seymour,  her  handkerchief,  embroidered  with 
gold,  fell  from  her  hands,  and  that  the  earl,  after  he  had  taken 
it  up  and  presented  it  to  the  queen,  had  thrust  his  hand  for  a 
moment,  with  a  motion  wholly  accidental  and  undesigned,  into 
his  ruff,  which  was  just  as  white  as  the  small  neatly-folded 
paper  which  he  concealed  in  it,  and  which  he  had  found  in  the 
queen's  handkerchief. 

One  person  had  seen  it.     This  little  ruse  of  the  queen  had 


228  HEKEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COTTBT. 

not  escaped  Jolin  Heywood,  who  had  immediately,  by  some 
cutting  witticism,  set  the  king  to  laughing,  and  tried  to  draw 
the  attention  of  the  courtiers  from  the  queen  and  her  lover. 

He  was  now  standing  crowded  into  the  embrasure  of  a  win- 
dow, and  entirely  concealed  behind  the  silk  curtain  ;  and  so, 
without  being  seen,  he  let  his  falcon  eyes  roam  over  the  whole 
room. 

He  saw  every  thing ;  he  heard  every  thing ;  and,  noticed 
by  none,  he  observed  all 

He  saw  how  Earl  Douglas  now  made  a  sign  to  Bishop 
Gardiner,  and  how  he  quickly  answered  it. 

As  if  by  accident,  both  now  left  the  groups  with  whom  they 
had  just  been  chatting,  and  drew  near  each  other,  looking  about 
for  some  place  where,  unobserved  and  separated  from  the  rest, 
they  might  converse  together.  In  all  the  windows  were  stand- 
ing groups,  chatting  and  laughing ;  only  that  window  behind 
the  curtain  of  which  John  Heywood  was  concealed,  was  un- 
occupied. * 

So  Earl  Douglas  and  the  bishop  turned  thither. 

"  Shall  we  attain  our  end  to-day?"  asked  Gardiner,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  With  God's  gracious  assistance,  we  shall  annihilate  all 
our  enemies  to-day.  The  sword  already  hangs  over  their  heads, 
and  soon  it  will  fall  and"deliver  us  from  them,"  said  Earl  Doug- 
las, solemnly. 

"  Are  you,  then,  certain  of  it?"  asked  Gardiner,  and  an 
expression  of  cruel  delight  flitted  across  his  malicious,  ashy 
face.  "  But  tell  me,  how  comes  it  that  Archbishop  Cranmer 
is  not  here  ?  " 

"  He  is  sick,  and  so  had  to  remain  at  Lambeth." 

"May  this  sickness  be  the  forerunner  of  his  death!  "mut- 
tered the  bishop,  devoutly  folding  his  hands. 

"  It  will  be  so,  your  highness  ;  God  will  destroy  His  ene- 
mies and  bless  us.  Cranmer  is  accused,  and  the  king  will 
judge  him  without  mercy." 

"  And  the  queen  ?  " 


HEJSTRY  Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  229 

Earl  Douglas  was  a  moment  silent,  and  then  said,  in  a  low 
whisper :  "  Wait  but  a  few  hours  more,  and  she  will  be  queen 
no  longer.  Instead  of  returning  from  the  throne-room  to  her 
apartments,  we  shall  accompany  her  to  the  Tower." 

John  Hey  wood,  completely  enveloped  in  the  folds  of  the 
curtain,  held  his  breath  and  listened. 

"  And  you  are,  then,  perfectly  sure  of  our  victory?"  asked 
Gardiner.  "  Can  no  accident,  no  unforeseen  circumstance, 
snatch  it  from  us  ?  " 

"  If  the  queen  gives  him  the  rosette — no  !  For  then  the 
king  will  find  Geraldine's  love-letter  in  the  silver  knot,  and  she 
is  condemned.  So  all  depends  on  the  queen's  wearing  the 
rosette,  and  not  discovei-ing  its  contents.  But  see,  your  high- 
ness, there  is  the  Duchess  of.  Richmond  approaching  us.  She 
makes  a  sign  to  me.  Now  pray  for  us,  your  highness,  for 
I  am  going  with  her  to  the  king,  and  she  will  accuse  this 
hated  Catharine  Parr !  I  tell  you,  bishop,  it  is  an  accusation 
involving  life  and  death  ;  and  if  Catharine  escape  one  danger ? 
she  will  run  into  another.  Wait  here  for  me,  your  highness  ; 
I  will  return  soon  and  tell  you  the  result  of  our  scheme.  Lady 
Jane,  also,  will  soon  bring  us  news  here."' 

lie  left  the  window  and  followed  the  duchess,  who  crossed 
the  hall,  and  with  her  disappeared  through  the  door  that  led  to 
the  king's  apartments. 

The  ladies  and  lords  of  the  court  laughed  and  chatted 
away. 

John  Heywood  stood,  with  throbbing  heart  and  in  breath- 
less anxiety,  behind  the  curtain,  close  by  Gardiner,  who  had 
folded  his  hands  and  was  praying. 

While  Gardiner  prayed,  and  Douglas  accused  and  calum- 
niated, the  queen,  suspecting  nothing  of  these  plots  they  were 
framing  against  her,  was  in  her  toilet-room  and  being  adorned 
by  her  women. 

She  was  to-day  very  beautiful,  very  magnificent  to  look 
upon  ;  at  once  a  woman  and  queen  ;  at  the  same  time  resplen- 
dent and  modest,  with  a  bewitching  smile  on  her  rosy  lips ; 


230  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HI8   COURT. 

and  yet  commanding  respect  in  her  proud  and  glorious  beauty. 
None  of  Henry's  queens  had  so  well  understood  the  art  of 
appearing  in  public,  and  none  remained  so  much  the  woman 
while  doing  so. 

As  she  now  stood  before  the  large  mirror,  which  the  Repub- 
lic of  Venice  had  sent  the  king  as  a  wedding-gift,  and  which 
reflected  the  figure  of  the  queen  sparkling  Avith  diamonds,  she 
smiled,  for  she  was  obliged  to  confess  to  herself  that  she  was 
very  beautiful  to-day ;  and  she  thought  that  to-day  Thomas 
Seymour  would  look  upon  his  love  with  pride. 

As  she  thought  of  him,  a  deep  crimson  overspread  her 
face,  and  a  thrill  flew  through  her  frame.  How  handsome  he 
had  been  at  the  tournament  that  day  ;  how  splendidly  he  leaped 
over  the  barriers ;  how  his  eye  flashed  ;  how  contemptuous 
had  been  his  smile !  And  then,  that  look  which  he  directed 
over  to  her  at  the  moment  when  he  had  conquered  his  antago- 
nist, Henry  Howard,  and  hurled  the  lance  from  his  hand ! 
Ob,  her  heart  was  then  ready  to  burst  with  delight  and  rap- 
ture ! 

Wholly  given  up  to  her  reverie,  she  sank  in  her  gilded  arm- 
chair and  cast  her  eyes  to  the  ground,  dreaming  and  smiling. 

Behind  her  stood  her  women  in  respectful  silence,  wait- 
ing for  a  sign  from  their  mistress.  But  the  queen  no  longer 
thought  at  all  of  them  ;  she  imagined  herself  alone  ;  she  saw 
nobody  but  that  handsome,  manly  face  for  which  she  had  re- 
served a  place  in  her  heart. 

Now  the  door  opened,  and  Lady  Jane  Douglas  entered. 
She,  too,  was  magnificently  dressed,  and  sparkling  with  dia- 
monds ;  she,  too,  was  beautiful,  but  it  was  the  pallid,  dreadful 
beauty  of  a  demon  ;  and  he  who  looked  on  her  just  then,  as 
she  entered  the  room,  would  have  trembled,  and  his  heart 
would  have  been  seized  with  an  undefined  fear. 

She  threw  a  quick  glance  on  her  mistress  lost  in  revery ; 
and  as  she  saw  that  her  toilet  was  finished,  she  made  a  sign  to 
the  women,  who  silently  obeyed  and  left  the  room. 

Still  Catharine  noticed  nothing.     Lady  Jane  stood  behind 


HJUO1Y   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUBT.  231 

Ler  and  observed  her  in  the  mirror.  As  she  saw  the  queen 
smile,  her  brow  darkened  and  fierce  fire  flashed  in  her  eyes. 

"  She  shall  smile  no  more,"  said  she  to  herself.  "  I  suffer 
thus  terribly  by  her ;  well,  now,  she  shall  suffer  too." 

Softly  and  noiselessly  she  slipped  into  the  next  room,  the 
door  of  which  stood  ajar,  and  opened  with  hurried  hand  a 
carton  filled  with  ribbons  and  bows.  Then  she  drew  from  the 
velvet  pocket,  wrought  with  pearls,  which  hung  at  her  side, 
suspended  by  a  gold  chain,  a  dark-red  rosette,  and  threw  it 
into  the  box.  That  was  all. 

Lady  Jane  now  retu'rned  to  the  adjoining  room  ;  and  her 
countenance,  which  had  been  previously  gloomy  and  threaten- 
ing, was  now  proud  and  joyful. 

With  a  bright  smile  she  walked  up  to  the  queen,  and 
kneeling  down  at  her  side,  she  pressed  a  fervent  kiss  on  the 
hand  that  was  hanging  down. 

"  What  is  my  queen  musing  over  ? ''  asked  she,  as  she  laid 
her  head  on  Catharine's  knee  and  tenderly  looked  up  at  her. 

The  queen  gave  a  slight  start,  and  raised  her  head.  She 
saw  Lady  Jane's  tender  smile,  and  her  yet  searching  looks. 

Because  she  felt  conscious  of  guilt,  at  least  of  guilty  thoughts, 
she  was  on  her  guard,  and  remembered  John  Heywood's  warn- 
ing. 

"  She  is  observing  me,"  she  said  to  herself;  "  she  seems 
affectionate ;  so  she  is  brooding  over  some  wicked  plot." 

"Ah,  it  is  well  you  have  come,  Jane,"  said  she  aloud. 
"  You  can  help  me ;  for,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  in  great 
perplexity.  I  am  in  want  of  a  rhyme,  and  I  am  thinking  iu 
vain  how  I  shall  find  it." 

"  Ah,  are  you  composing  poetry,  queen?  " 

"  Why,  Jane,  does  that  surprise  you?  Shall  I,  the  queen, 
be  able,  then,  to  bear  off  no  prize?  I  would  give  my  precious 
jewels,  if  I  could  succeed  in  composing  a  poem  to  which  the 
kiug  was  obliged  to  award  the  prize.  But  I  am  wanting  in  a 
musical  ear ;  I  cannot  find  the  rhyme,  and  so  shall  be  obliged 
at  last  to  give  up  the  idea  of  winning  laurels  also.  How  tho 


232  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

king  would  enjoy  it,  though  !  For,  to  confess  the  truth  to  you, 
I  believe  he  is  a  little  afraid  that  Henry  Howard  will  bear  off 
the  prize,  and  he  would  be  very  thankful  to  me  if  I  could  con- 
test it  with  him.  You  well  know  the  king  has  no  love  for 
the  Howards." 

"  And  you,  queen?  "  asked  Jane  ;  and  she  turned  so  pale, 
that  the  queen  herself  noticed  it. 

"  You  are  unwell,  Jane,"  said  she,  sympathizingly.  "  Real- 
ly, Jane,  you  seem  to  be  suffering.  You  need  recreation  ;  you 
should  rest  a  little."  • 

But  Jane  had  already  regained  her  calm  and  earnest  air, 
and  she  succeeded  in  smiling. 

"  No,  indeed  !  "  said  she.  "  I  am  well,  and  satisfied  to  be 
permitted  to  be  near  you.  But  will  you  allow  me,  queen,  to 
make  a  request  of  you  ?  " 

"  Ask,  Jane,  ask,  and  It  is  granted  beforehand  ;  for  I  know 
that  Jane  will  request  nothing  that  her  friend  cannot  grant." 

Lady  Jane  was  silent,  and  looked  thoughtfully  upon  the 
ground.  With  firm  resolution  she  struggled  with  herself.  Her 
proud  heart  reared  fiercely  up  at  the  thought  of  bowing  before 
this  woman,  whom  she  hated,  and  of  being  obliged  to  approach 
her  with  a  fawning  prayer.  She  felt  such  raging  hate  against 
the  queen,  that  ifi  that  hour  she  would  willingly  have  given  her 
own  life,  if  she  could  have  first  seen  her  enemy  at  her  feet, 
wailing  and  crushed. 

Henry  Howard  loved  the  queen  ;  so  Catharine  had  robbed 
her  of  the  heart  of  him  whom  she  adored.  Catharine  had 
condemned  her  to  the  eternal  torment  of  renouncing  him — to 
the  rack  of  enjoying  a  happiness  and  a  rapture  that  was  not 
hers — to  warm  herself  at  a  fire  which  she  like  a  thief  had 
stolen  from  the  altar  of  another's  god. 

Catharine  was  condemned  and  doomed.  Jane  had  no  more 
compassion.  She  must  crush  her. 

1  Well,"  asked  the  queen,  "you  are  silent?  You  do  not 
tell  me  what  I  am  to  grant  you  ?  " 

Lady  Jane  raised  her  eyes,  and  her  look  was  serene  and 


HENRY   VIH.    AND  HIS   OOUKT.  233 

peaceful.  "  Queen,"  said  she,  "  I  encountered  in  the  anteroom 
one  who  is  unhappy,  deeply  bowed  down.  In  your  hand 
alone  is  the  power  to  raise  him  up  again.  Will  you  do  it?" 

"Will  I  do  it!  "  exclaimed  Catharine,  quickly.  "  Oh,  Jane, 
you  well  know  how  much  my  heart  longs  to  help  and  be  ser- 
viceable to  the  unfortunate !  Ah,  so  many  wounds  are  in- 
flicted at  this  court,  and  the  queen  is  so  poor  in  balm  to  heal 
them !  Allow  me  this  pleasure  then,  Jane,  and  I  shall  be 
thankful  to  you,  not  you  to  me !  Speak  then,  Jane,  speak 
quickly  ;  who  is  it  that  needs  my  help?  " 

"  Not  your  help,  queen,  but  your  compassion  and  your 
grace.  Earl  Sudley  has  conquered  poor  Earl  Surrey  in  the 
tournament  to-day,  and  you  comprehend  that  your  lord  cham- 
berlain feels  himself  deeply  bowed  and  humbled." 

"  Can  I  alter  that,  Jane?  Why  did  the  visionary  earl,  the 
enthusiastic  poet,  allow  himself  a  contest  with  a  hero  who 
always  knows  what  he  wants,  and  ever  accomplishes  what  ho 
wills?  Oh,  it  was  wonderful  to  look  upon,  with  what  light- 
ning speed  Thomas  Seymour  lifted  him  out  of  the  saddle ! 
And  the  proud  Earl  Surrey,  the  wise  and  learned  man,  the 
powerful  party  leader,  was  forced  to  bow  before  the  hero,  who 
like  an  angel  Michael  had  thrown  him  in  the  dust." 

The  queen  laughed. 

That  laugh  went  through  Jane's  heart  like  a  cutting 
sword. 

"  She  shall  pay  me  for  that !  "  said  she  softly  to  herself. 
"  Queen,"  said  she  aloud,  "  you  are  perfectly  right ;  he  has  de- 
served this  humiliation  ;  but  now,  after  he  is  punished,  you 
should  lift  him  up.  Nay,  do  not  shake  your  beautiful  head. 
Do  it  for  your  own  sake,  queen  ;  do  it  from  prudence.  Earl 
Surrey,  with  his  father,  is  the  head  of  a  powerful  party,  whom 
this  humiliation  of  the  Howards  fills  with  a  still  more  burning 
hate  against  the  Seymours,  and  who  will,  in  time  to  come,  take 
a  bloody  revenge  for  it." 

"  All,  you  frighten  me  !  "  said  the  qtieen,  who  had  now  be- 
come serious. 


234:  HENKY   VIH.    AND    HIS   COURT. 

Lady  Jane  continued :  "  I  saw  how  the  Duke  of  Norfolk 
bit  his  lips,  as  his  son  had  to  yield  to  Seymour  ;  I  heard  how 
one,  here  and  there,  muttered  low  curses  and  vows  of  ven- 
geance against  the  Seymours." 

"Who  did  that?  Who  dared  do  it  ?"  exclaimed  Catha- 
rine, springing  up  impetuously  from  her  arm-chair.  "  Who  at 
this  court  is  so  audacious  as  to  wish  to  injure  those  whom  the 
queen  loves  ?  Name  him  to  me,  Jane,  I  will  know  his  name  ! 
I  will  know  it,  that  I  may  accuse  him  to  the  king.  For  the 
king  does  not  want  that  these  noble  Seymours  should  give  way 
to  the  Howards  ;  he  does  not  want  that  the  nobler,  the  better, 
and  more  glorious,  should  bow  before  these  quarrelsome,  dom- 
ineering papists.  The  king  loves  the  noble  Seymours,  and 
his  powerful  arm  will  protect  them  against  all  their  enemies/' 

"  And,  without  doubt, your  majesty  will  assist  him  in  it?" 
said  Jane,  smiling. 

This  smile  brought  the  queen  back  to  her  senses  again. 

She  perceived  that  she  had  gone  too  far  ;  that  she  had  be- 
trayed too  much  of  her  secret.  She  must,  therefore,  repair 
the  damage,  and  allow  her  excitement  to  be  forgotten. 

Therefore  she  said,  calmly :  "  Certainly,  Jane  ;  I  will  as- 
sist the  king  to  be  just.  But  never  will  I  be  unjust,  not  even 
against  these  papists.  If  I  cannot  love  them,  nevertheless  no 
one  shall  say  that  I  hate  them.  And  besides,  it  becomes  a 
queen  to  rise  above  parties.  Say,  then,  Jane,  what  can  I  do 
for  poor  Surrey?  With  what  shall  we  bind  up  these  wounds 
that  the  brave  Seymour  has  inflicted  on  him  ?  " 

"  You  have  publicly  given  the  victor  in  the  tournament  a 
token  of  your  great  favor — you  have  crowned  him." 

"  It  was  the  king's  order,"  exclaimed  Catharine,  warmly. 

"  Well !  He  will  not,  however,  command  you  to  reward 
the  Earl  of  Surrey  also,  if  he  likewise  should  gain  the  victory 
this  evening.  Do  it,  therefore,  of  your  own  accord,  queen. 
Give  him  openly,  before  your  whole  court,  a  token  of  your 
favor  !  It  is  so  easy  for  princes  to  make  men  happy,  to  comfort 
the  unfortunate  I  A  smile,  a  friendly  word,  a  pressure  of  the 


HENKY   Vni.    AND   HIS   COURT.  235 

hand  is  sufficient  for  it.  A  ribbon  that  you  wear  on  your  dress 
makes  him  to  whom  you  present  it,  proud  and  happy,  and  raises 
him  high  above  all  others.  Ponder  it  well,  queen  ;  I  speak 
not  fof  Earl  Surrey's  sake  ;  I  am  thinking  more  of  yourself. 
If  you  have  the  courage,  publicly  and  in  spite  of  the  disgrace 
with  which  King  Henry  threatens  the  Howards,  to  be  never- 
theless just  to -them,  and  to  recognize  their  merits  as  well  as 
that  of  others — believe  me,  if  you  do  that,  the  whole  of  this 
powerful  party,  which  is  now  hostile  to  you,  will  fall  at  your 
feet  overcome  and  conquered.  You  will  at  last  become  the 
all-powerful  and  universally  loved  Queen  of  England ;  and, 
like  the  heretics,  the  papists  also  will  call  you  their  mistress 
and  protectress.  Consider  no  longer !  Let  your  noble  and 
generous  heart  prevail !  Spiteful  fortune  has  prostrated  Henry 
Howard  in  the  dust.  Extend  him  your  hand,  queen,  that  he 
may  rise  again,  and  again  stand  there  at  your  court,  proud  and 
radiant  as  he  always  was.  Henry  Howard  well  deserves  that 
you  should  be  gracious  to  him.  Great  and  beaming  like  a 
star,  he  shines  on  high  above  all  men ;  and  there  is  no  one 
who  can  say  that  he  himself  iamore  prudent  or  braver,  wiser 
or  more  learned,  nobler  or  greater,  than  the  noble,  the  exalted 
Surrey.  All  England  resounds  with  his  fame.  The  women  re- 
peat with  enthusiasm  his  beautiful  sonnets  and  love-songs  ;  the 
learned  are  proud  to  call  him  their  equal,  and  the  warriors 
speak  with  admiration  of  his  feats  of  arms.  Be  just,  then, 
queen !  You  have  so  highly  honored  the  merit  of  valor ; 
now,  honor  the  merit  of  mind  also  !  You  have,  in  Seymour, 
honored  the  warrior ;  now,  in  Howard,  honor  the  poet  and 
the  man !  " 

"  I  will  do  it,"  said  Catharine,  as  with  a  charming  smile 
she  looked  into  Jane's  glowing  and  enthusiastic  countenance. 
44 1  will  do  it,  Jane,  but  upon  one  condition  I " 

"  And  this  condition  is — " 

Catharine  put  her  arm  around  Jane's  neck,  and  drew  her 
close  to  her  heart.  "  That  you  confess  to  me,  that  you  love 
Henry  Howard,  whom  you  know  how  to  defend  so  enthusiasti- 
cally and  warmly." 


236  HEUSTBY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 


Lady  Jane  gave  a  start,  and  for  a  moment  leaned  her  head 
on  the  queen's  shoulder,  exhausted. 

"  Well,"  asked  she,  "  do  you  confess  it  ?  Will  you  acknowl- 
edge that  your  proud,  cold  heart  is  obliged  to  declare  itself 
overcome  and  conquered?" 

"  Yes,  I  confess  it,"  cried  .Lady  Jane,  as  with  passionate 
vehemence  she  threw  herself  at  Catharine's  feet.  "  Yes,  I 
love  him  —  I  adore  him.  I  know  it  is  a  disdained  and  un- 
happy love  ;  but  what  would  you  have  ?  My  heart  is  might- 
ier than  every  thing  else.  I  love  him  ;  he  is  my  god  and  my 
lord  ;  I  adore  him  as  my  saviour  and  lord.  Queen,  you  know 
all  my  secret  ;  betray  me  if  you  will  !  Tell  it  to  my  father, 
if  you  wish  him  to  curse  me.  Tell  it  to  Henry  Howard,  if 
it  pleases  you  to  hear  how  he  scoffs  at  me.  For  he,  queen  — 
he  loves  me  not  !  " 

"  Poor  unfortunate  Jane  !  "  exclaimed  the  queen,  compas- 
sionately. 

Jane  uttered  a  low  cry,  and  rose  from  her  knees.  That 
was  too  much.  Her  enemy  commiserated  her.  She,  who 
was  to  blame  for  her  sorrow  —  she  bemoaned  her  fate. 

Ah,  she  could  have  strangled  the  queen  ;  she  could  have 
plunged  a  dagger  into  her  heart,  because  she  dared  to  com- 
miserate her. 

"  I  have  complied  with  your  condition,  queen,"  said  she, 
breathing  hurriedly.  "Will  you  now  comply  with  my 
request  ?  " 

"  And  will  you  really  be  an  advocate  for  this  unthankful, 
cruel  man,  who  does  not  love  you  ?  Proudly  and  coldly  he 
passes  your  beauty  by,  and  you  —  you  intercede  for  him  !  " 

"  Queen,  true  love  thinks  not  of  itself  !  It  sacrifices  itself. 
It  makes  no  question  of  the  re  ward  it  receives,  but  only  of  the 
happiness  which  it  bestows.  I  saw  in  his  pale,  sorrowful 
face,  how  much  he  suffered  ;  ought  I  not  to  think  of  comforting 
him  ?  I  approached  him,  I  addressed  him  ;  I  heard  his  de- 
spairing lamentation  over  that  misfortune,  which,  however,  was 
not  the  fault  of  his  activity  and  courage,  but,  as  all  the  world 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT. .  237 

saw,  the  fault  of  bis  horse,  which  was  shy  and  stumbled.  And 
as  he,  in  all  the  bitterness  of  his  pain,  was  lamenting  that  you, 
queen,  would  despise  and  scorn  him,  I,  with  full  trust  in  your 
noble  and  magnanimous  heart,  promised  him  that  you  would, 
at  my  request,  yet  give  him  to-day,  before  your  whole  court,  a 
token  of  your  favor.  Catharine,  did  I  do  wrong?" 

"  No,  Jane,  no !  You  did  right ;  and  your  words  shall 
be  made  good.  But  how  shall  I  begin  ?  What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  The  earl  this  evening,  after  the  king  has  read  the  Greek 
scene  with  Croke,  will  recite  some  new  sonnets  which  he  has 
composed.  When  he  has  done  so,  give  him  some  kind  of  a 
present — be  it  what  it  may,  no  matter — as  a  token  of  your 
favor." 

"  But  how,  Jane,  if  his  sonnets  deserve  no  praise  and  no 
acknowledgment  ?  " 

"  You  may  be  sure  that  they  do  deserve  it.  For  Henry 
Howard  is  a  noble  and  true  poet,  and  his  verses  are  full  of 
heavenly  melody  and  exalted  thoughts." 

The  queen  smiled.  "  Yes,"  said  she,  *'  you  love  him  ar- 
dently ;  for  you  have  no  doubt  as  to  him.  We  will,  therefore, 
recognize  him  as  a  great  poet.  But  with  what  shall  I  reward 
him?" 

"  Give  him  a  rose  that  you  wear  in  your  bosom — a  rosette 
that  is  fastened  to  your  dress  and  shows  your  colors." 

"  But  alas,  Jane,  to-day  I  wear  neither  a  rose  nor  a 
rosette." 

"  Yet  you  can  wear  one,  queen.  A  rosette  is,  indeed, 
wanting  lic.ro  on  your  shoulder.  Your  purple  mantle  is  too 
negligently  fastened.  We  must  put  some  trimming  here." 

She  went  hastily  into  the  next  room  and  returned  with  the 
box  in  which  were  kept  the  queen's  ribbons  embroidered  with 
gold,  and  bows  adorned  with  jewels. 

Lady  Jane  searched  and  selected,  hero  and  there,  a  long 
time.  Then  she  took  the  crimson  velvet  rosette,  which  she 
herself  had  previously  thrown  into  the  box,  and  showed  it  to 
the  queen. 


238  HENEY   Vm.    AlH)   HIS   COUET. 


"  See,  it  is  at  the  same  time  tasteful  and  rich,  for  a  dia- 
mond clasp  confines  it  in  the  middle.  Will  you  allow  me  to 
fasten  this  rosette  on  your  shoulder,  and  will  you  give  it  to  the 
Earl  of  Surrey?" 

"  Yes,  Jane,  I  will  give  it  to  him,  because  you  wish  it. 
But,  poor  Jane,  what  do  you  gain  by  my  doing  it?". 

"At  any  rate,  a  friendly  smile,  queen." 

"And  is  that  enough  for  you?  Do  you  love  him  so 
much,  then?" 

"Yes,  I  love  him!"  said  Jane  Douglas,  with  a  sigh  of 
pain,  as  she  fastened  the  rosette  on  the  queen's  shoulder. 

"And  now,  Jane,  go  and  announce  to  the  master  of  cere- 
monies that  I  am  ready,  as  soon  as  the  king  wishes  it,  to  re- 
sort to  the  gallery." 

Lady  Jane  turned  to  leave  the  chamber.  But,  already 
upon  the  threshold,  she  returned  once  more. 

"  Forgive  me,  queen,  for  venturing  to  make  one  more 
request  of  you.  You  have,  however,  just  shown  yourself  too 
much  the  noble  and  true  friend  of  earlier  days  for  me  not  to 
venture  one  more  request." 

"  Now,  what  is  it,  poor  Jane  ?  " 

"  I  have  intrusted  my  secret  not  to  the  queen,  but  to  Cath- 
arine Parr,  the  friend  of  my  youth.  Will  she  keep  it,  and 
betray  to  none  my  disgrace  and  my  humiliation  ?  " 

"  My  word  for  that,  Jane.  Nobody  but  God  and  our- 
selves shall  ever  know  what  we  have  spokem" 

Lady  Jane  humbly  kissed  her  hand  and  murmured  a  few 
words  of  thanks  ;  then  she  left  the  queen's  room  to  go  in  quest 
of  the  master  of  ceremonies. 

In  the  queen's  anteroom  she  stopped  a  moment,  and  leaned 
against  the  wall,  exhausted,  and  as  it  were  crushed.  Nobody 
was  here  who  could  observe  and  listen  to  her.  She  had  no 
need  to  smile,  no  need  to  conceal,  beneath  a  calm  and  equable 
appearance,  all  those  tempestuous  and  despairing  feelings 
which  were  working  within.  She  could  allow  her  hatred  and 
her  resentment,  her  rage  and  her  despair,  to  pour  forth  in 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  239 

I 

words  and  gestures,  in  tears  and  imprecations,  in  sobs  and 
"sighs.  She  could. fall  on  her  knees  and  beseech  God  for  grace 
and  mercy,  and  call  on  the  devil  for  revenge  and  destruction. 

When  she  had  so  done,  she  arose,  and  her  demeanor  re- 
sumed its  wonted  cold  and  calm  expression.  Only  her  cheeks 
were  still  paler ;  only  a  still  gloomier  fire  darted  from  her  eyes, 
and  a  scornful  smile  played  about  her  thin,  compressed  lips. 

She  traversed  the  rooms  and  corridors,  and  now  she  en- 
tered the  king's  anteroom.  As  she  observed  Gardiner,  who 
was  standing  alone  and  separated  from  the  rest  in  the  embra- 
sure of  the  window,  she  went  up  to  him  ;  and  John  Heywood, 
who  was  still  hidden  behind  the  curtain,  shuddered  at  the 
frightful  and  scornful  expression  of  her  features. 

She  offered  the  bishop  her  hand,  and  tried  to  smile.  "  It 
is  done,"  said  she,  almost  inaudibly. 

"  What !  The  queen  wears  the  rosette?"  asked  Gardiner 
vivaciously. 

"  She  wears  the  rosette,  and  will  give  it  to  him." 

"  And  the  note  is  in  it?  " 

"  It  is  concealed  under  the  diamond  clasp." 

"  Oh,  then  she  is  lost !  "  muttered  Gardiner.  "If  the  king 
finds  this  paper,  Catharine's  death-warrant  is  signed." 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Lady  Jane.  "  See  !  Lord  Hertford  is  com- 
ing toward  us.  Let  us  go  to  meet  him." 

They  both  left  the  window  and  walked  out  into  the  hall. 

John  Heywood  immediately  slipped  front  behind  the  cur- 
tain, and,  softly  gliding  along  by  the  wall,  left  the  hall  per- 
ceived by  no  one. 

Outside,  he  stopped  and  reflected. 

"  I  must  see  this  conspiracy  to  the  bottom,"  said  he  to 
himself.  "  I  must  find  out  through  whom  and  by  what  they 
wish  to  destroy  her ;  and  I  must  have  sure  and  undeniable 
proof  in  my  hands,  in  order  to  bo  able  to  convict  them,  and 
successfully  accuse  them  to  the  king.  Therefore  it  is  necessary 
to  be  cautious  and  prudent.  So  let  us  consider  what  to  do. 
The  simplest  thing  would  be  to  beg  the  queen  not  to  wear  the 


24:0  HENKT  Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

rosette.  But  that  is  only  to  demolish  the  web  for  this  time, 
without,  however,  being  able  to  kill  the  spider  that  wove  it. 
So  she  must  wear  the  rosette  ;  for  besides,  without  that  I 
should  never  be  able  either  to  find  out  to  whom  she  is  to  give 
it.  But  the  paper  that  is  concealed  in  the  rosette — that  I 
must  have — that  must  not  be  in  it.  '  If  the  king  finds  this 
paper,  Catharine's  death-warrant  is  signed.'  Now,  my  rever- 
end priest  of  the  devil,  the  king  will  not  find  that  paper,  for 
John  Hey  wood  will  not  have  it  so.  But  how  shall  I  begin  ? 
Shall  I  tell  the  queen  what  I  heard?  No!  She  would  lose 
her  cheerful  spirit  and  become  embarrassed,  and  the  embarrass- 
ment would  be  in  the  king's  eyes  the  most  convincing  proof  of 
her  guilt.  No,  I  must  take  this  paper  out  of  the  rosette  with- 
out the  queen's  being  aware  of  it.  Boldly  to  work,  then  !  I 
must  have  this  paper,  and  tweak  these  hypocrites  by  the  nose. 
How  it  can  be  done,  it  is  not  clear  to  me  yet ;  but  I  will  do 
it — that  is  enough.  Halloo,  forward  to  the  queen  ! " 

With  precipitant  haste  he  ran  through  the  halls  and  corri- 
dors, while  with  a  smile  he  muttered  away  to  himself:  "  Thank 
God,  I  enjoy  the  honor  of  being  the  fool ;  for  only  the  king 
and  the  fool  have  the  privilege  of  being  able  to  enter  unan- 
nounced every  room,  even  the  queen's." 

Catharine  was  alone  in  her  boudoir,  when  the  small  door, 
through  which  the  king  was  accustomed  to  resort  to  her,  was 
softly  opened.- 

"  Oh,  the  kirig  is  coming !  "  said  she,  walking  to  the  door 
to  greet  her  husband. 

"  Yes,  the  king  is  coming,  for  the  fool  is  already  here," 
said  John  Hey  wood,  who  entered  through  the  private  door. 
"  Are  we  alone,  queen  ?  Does  nobody  overhear  us  ?  " 

"  No,  John  Hey  wood,  we  are  all  alone.  What  do  you 
bring  me  ?  " 

"  A  letter,  queen." 

"  From  whom?  "  asked  she,  and  a  glowing  crimson  flitted 
over  her  cheek. 

" From  whom?"  repeated  John  Heywood,  with  a  waggish 


HENKY   VIE.    AND   HIS    COURT.  241 

smile.  "  I  do  not  know,  queen  ;  but  at  any  rate  it  is  a  beg- 
ging letter  ;  and  without  doubt  you  would  do  well  not  to  read 
it  at  all ;  for  I  bet  you,  the  shameless  writer  of  this  letter  de- 
mands of  you  some'  impossibility — it  may  be  a  smile,  or  a 
pressure  of  the  hand,  a  lock  of  your  hair,  or  perchance  even  a 
kiss.  So,  queen,  do  not  read  the  begging  letter  at  all." 

"  John,"  said  she,  smiling,  and  yet  trembling  with  impa- 
tience, "  John,  give  me  the  letter." 

"  I  will  sell  it  to  you,  queen,  I  have  learned  that  from 
the  king,  who  likewise  gives  nothing  away  generously,  with- 
out taking  in  return  more  than  he  gives.  So  let  us  trade.  I 
give  you  the  letter ;  you  give  me  the  rosette  which  you  wear 
on  your  shoulder  there." 

"  Nay.  indeed,  John  ;  choose  something  else — I  cannot 
give  you  the  rosette." 

"  And  by  the  gods  be  it  sworn  !  "  exclaimed  John,  with 
comic  pathos,  u  I  give  you  not  the  letter,  if  you  do  not  give  me 
the  rosette." 

"  Silly  loon,"  said  the  queen,  "  I  tell  you  I  cannot !  Choose 
something  else,  John  ;  and  I  conjure  you,  dear  John,  give  me 
the  letter." 

"  Then  only,  when  you  give  me  the  rosette.  I  have  sworn 
it  by  the  gods,  and  what  I  vow  to  them,  that  I  stick  to ! 
No,  no,  queen — cot  those  sullen  airs,  not  that  angry  frown. 
For  if  I  cannot  in  earnest  receive  the  rosette  as  a  present,  then 
let  us  do  like  the  Jesuits  and  papists,  who  even  trade  with  the 
dear  God,  and  snap  their  fingers  at  Him.  I  must  keep  my 
oatli !  I  give  you  the  letter,  and  you  give  me  the  rosette ; 
but  listen — you  only  lend  it  to  me  ;  and  when  I  have  it  in  my 
hand  a  moment,  I  am  generous  and  bountiful,  like  the  king, 
and  I  make  you  a  present  of  your  own  property." 

AVitliu  quick  motion  the  quocn  tore  the  rosette  from  her 
BhouhliT,  arid  handed  it  to  John  I  Icy  wood. 

"  Now  give  me  the  letter,  John/' 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  John  Hey  wood  as  he  received  the  ro- 
11 


242  HENET  Vni.    AND    HIS   COTTRT. 

sette.  "  Take  it ;  and  you  will  see  that  Thomas  Seymour  is 
my  brother." 

u  Your  brother  ?"  asked  Catharine  with  a  smile,  as  with 
trembling  hand  she  broke  the  seal. 

"  Yes,  my  brother,  for  he  is  a  fool !  Ah,  I  have  a  great 
many  brothers.  The  family  of  fools  is  so  very  large  ! " 

The  queen  no  longer  heard.  She  was  reading  the  letter 
of  her  lover.  She  had  eyes  only  for  those  lines,  that  told  her 
that  Thomas  Seymour  loved  her,"  adored  her,  and  was  pining 
away  with  longing  after  her. 

She  did  not  see  how  John  Heywood,  with  nimble  hand, 
unfastened  the  diamond  clasp  from  the  rosette,  and  took  out  of 
it  the  little  paper  that  Avas  concealed  in  the  folds  of  the  ribbon. 

"  She  is  saved  !  "  murmured  he,  while  he  thrust  the  fatal 
paper  into  his  doublet,  and  fastened  the  clasp  again  with  the 
pin.  "  She  is  saved,  and  the  king  will  not  sign  her  death- 
warrant  this  time." 

Catharine  had  read  the  letter  to  the  end,  and  hid  it  in  her 
bosom. 

"  Queen,  you  have  sworn  to  burn  up  every  letter  that  I 
bring  you  from  him  ;  for,  forbidden  love-letters  are  dangerous 
things.  One  day  they  may  find  a  tongue  and  testify  against 
you  !  Queen,  I  will  not  bring  you  again  another  letter,  if  you 
do  not  first  burn  that  one." 

"  John,  I  will  burn  it  up  when  once  I  have  really  read  it. 
Just  now  I  read  it  only  with  my  heart,  not  with  my  eyes. 
Allow  me,  then,  to  wear  it  on  my  heart  a  few  hours  more." 

"  Do  you  swear  to  me  that  you  will  burn  it  up  this  very 
day?" 

"  I  swear  it." 

"  Then  I  will  be  satisfied  this  time.  Here  is  your  rosette  ; 
and  like  the  famous  fox  in  the  fable,  that  pronounced  the 
grapes  sour  because  he  could  not  get  them,  I  say,  take  your 
rosette  back  ;  I  will  have  none  of  it." 

He  handed  the  queen  the  rosette,  •  and  she  smilingly  fast- 
ened it  on  her  shoulder  again. 


HEKRY   Vm.    A$T>   HIS   COURT.  243 

"  John,"  said  she,  with  a  bewitching  smile,  extending  her 
hand  to  him,  "  John,  when  will  you  at  length  permit  me  to 
thank  you  otherwise  than  with  words  ?  When  will  you  at 
length  allow  your  queen  to  reward  you,  for  all  this  service  of 
love,  otherwise  than  with  words  ?  " 

John  Heywood  kissed  her  hand,  and  said  mournfully: 
"  I  will  demand  a  reward  of  you  on  the  day  when  my  tears 
and  my  prayers  succeed  in  persuading  you  to  renounce  this 
wretched  and  dangerous  love.  On  that  day  I  shall  have 
really  deserved  a  reward,  and  I  will  accept  it  from  you  with  a 
proud  heart." 

"  Poor  John  !  So,  then,  you  will  never  receive  your  re- 
ward ;  for  that  day  will  never  come  !  " 

*'  §o,  then,  I  shall  probably  receive  my  reward,  but  from 
the  king ;  and  it  will  be  a  reward  whereby  one  loses  hearing  and 
sight,  and  head  to  boot.  Well,  we  shall  see  !  Till  then,  fare- 
well, queen  !  I  must  to  the  king  ;  for  somebody  might  sur- 
prise me  here,  and  come  to  the  shrewd  conclusion  thut  John 
Heywood  is  not  always  a  fool,  but  sometimes  also  the  mes- 
senger of  love  !  I  kiss  the  hem  of  your  garment ;  farewell, 
queen  I " 

He  glided  again  through  the  private  door. 

"  Now  we  will  at  once  examine  this  paper,"  said  he,  as  he 
reached  the  corridor  and  was  sure  of  being  seen  by  no  one. 

He  drew  the  paper  out  of  his  doublet  and  opened  it.  "I 
do  not  know  the  handwriting,"  muttered  he,  "  but  it  was  a 
woman  that  wrote  it." 

The  letter  read  :  "  Do  you  believe  me  now,  my  beloved  ? 
I  swore  to  deliver  to  you  to-day,  in  the  presence  of  the  king 
and  all  of  my  court,  this  rosette  ;  and  I  have  done  so.  For  you 
I  gladly  risk  my  life,  for  you  are  my  life  ;  and  still  more  beau- 
tiful were  it  to  die  with  you,  than  to  live  without  you.  I  live 
only  when  I  rest  in  your  arms ;  and  those  dark  nights,  when 
you  can  be  with  me,  are  the  light  and  sunshine  of  my  days. 
Let  us  pray  Heaven  a  dark  night  may  soon  come ;  for  such 
a  night  restores  to  me  the  loved  one,  and  to  you,  your  happy 
wife,  Geraldine." 


244:  HENKY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

"  Geraldiae  !  who  is  Geraldine  ?  "  muttered  John  Hey- 
wood,  slipping  the  paper  into  his  doublet  again.  "  I  must  dis- 
entangle this  web  of  lying  and  deceit.  I  must  know  what  all 
this  means.  For  this  is  more  than  a  conspiracy — a  false  accu- 
sation. It  concerns,  as  it  seems,  a  reality.  This  letter  the 
queen  is  to  give  to  a  man ;  and  in  it,  sweet  recollections, 
happy  nights,  are  spoken  of.  So  he  who  receives  this  letter  is 
in  league  with  them  against  Catharine,  and  I  dare  say  her 
worst  enemy,  for  he  makes  use  of  love  against  her.  Some 
treachery  or  knavery  is  concealed  behind  this.  Either  the 
man,  to  whom  this  letter  is  addressed,  is  deceived — and  he  is 
unintentionally  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  papists — or  he  is  in 
league  with  them,  and  has  given  himself  up  to  the  villany  of 
playing  the  part  of  a  lover  to  the  queen.  But  who  can  he  be  ? 
Perchance,  Thomas  Seymour.  It  were  possible  ;  for  he  has  a 
cold  and  deceitful  heart,  and  he  would  be  capable  of  such 
treachery.  But  woe  be  to  him  if  it  is  he  !  Then  it  will  be  I 
who  accuses  him  to  the  king ;  and,  by  God !  his  head  shall 
fall !  Now  away  to  the  king !  " 

Just  as  he  entered  the  king's  anteroom,  the  door  of  the 
cabinet  opened,  and  the  Duchess  of  Richmond,  accompanied 
by  Earl  Douglas,  walked  out. 

Lady  Jane  and  Gardiner  were  standing,  as  if  by  accident, 
near  the  door. 

"  Well,  have  we  attained  our  end  there  also?"  asked  Gar-  . 
diner. 

"  We  have  attained  it,"  said  Earl  Douglas.  "  The  duch- 
ess has  accused  her  brother  of  a  liaison  with  the  queen.  She 
has  deposed  that  he  sometimes  leaves  the  palace  by  night,  and 
does  not  return  to  it  before  morning.  She  has  declared  that 
for  four  nights  she  herself  dogged  her  brother  and  saw  him  as 
he  entered  the  wing  of  the  castle  occupied  by  the  queen  ;  and 
one  of  the  queen's  maids  has  communicated  to  the  duchess  that 
the  queen  was  not  in  her  room  on  that  night." 

"And  the  king  listened  to  the  accusation,  and  did  not 
throttle  you  in  his  wrath  ! " 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  245 

"  He  is  yet  in  that  dull  state  of  rage  iu  which  the  lava 
that  the  crater  will  afterward  pour  forth,  is  just  prepared. 
As  yet  all  is  quiet,  but  be  sure  there  will  be  an  eruption,  and 
the  stream  of  red-hot  lava  will  bury  those  who  have  dared  ex- 
cite the  god  Vulcan." 

"  And  does  he  know  about  the  rosette  ?  "  asked  Lady  Jane. 

"  He  knows  every  thing.  Arid  until  that  moment  he  will 
allow  no  one  to  suspect  his  wrath  and  fury.  He  says  he  will 
make  the  queen  perfectly  secure,  in  order  to  get  into  his  hands 
thereby  sure  proof  of  her  guilt.  Well,  we  will  furnish  him 
this  evidence  ;  and  hence  it  follows  that  the  queen  is  inevitably 
lost." 

"  But  hark  !  The  doors  are  opened,  and  the  master  of  cer- 
emonies comes  to  summon  us  to  the  golden  gallery." 

"Just  walk  in,"  muttered  John  Hey  wood,  gliding  along 
behind  them.  "  I  am  still  here  ;  and  I  will  be  the  mouse  that 
gnaws  the  net  in  which  you  want  to  catch  my  noble-minded 
lioness." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
THE    QUEEN'S    KOSETTE. 

THE  golden  gallery,  in  which  the  tourney  of  the  poets  was 
to  take  place,  presented  to-day  a  truly  enchanting  and  fairy- 
like  aspect.  Mirrors  of  gigantic  size,  set  in  broad  gilt  frames, 
ornamented  with  the  most  perfect  carved  work,  covered  the 
walls,  mid  threw  back,  a  tlrousand  times  reflected,  the  enormous 
chandeliers  whiYli,  with  their  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  can- 
dles, shed  the  light  of  day  in  the  vast  hall.  Here  and  there 
were  seen,  arranged  in  front  of  the  mirrors,  clusters  of  the 
rarest  and  choicest  flowers,  which  poured  through  the  hall  their 
fragrance,  stupefying  and  yet  so  enchanting,  and  outshone  in 
brilliancy  of  colors  even  the  Turkish  carpet,  which  stretched 
through  the  whole  room  and  changed  the  floor  into  one  im- 


246  HENKT   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

mense  flower-bed.  Between  the  clumps  of  flowers  were  seen 
tables  with  golden  vases,  in  which  were  refreshing  beverages ; 
while  at  the  other  end  of  the  enormous  gallery  stood  a  gigantic 
sideboard,  which  contained  the  choicest  and  rarest  dishes.  At 
present  the  doors  of  the  sideboard,  which,  when  open,  formed 
a  room  of  itself,  were  closed. 

They  had  not  yet  come  to  the  material  enjoyments ;  they 
were  still  occupied  in  absorbing  the  spiritual.  The  brilliant 
and  select  company  that  filled  the  hall  was  still  for  some  time 
condemned  to  be  silent,  and  to  shut  up  within  them  their  laugh* 
ter  and  gossip,  their  backbiting  and  slander,  their  flattery  and 
hypocrisy. 

Just  now  a  pause  ensued.  The  king,  with  Croke,  had  re- 
cited to  his  court  a  scene  from  "  Antigone ; "  and  they  were 
just  taking  breath  from  the  wonderful  and  exalted  enjoyment 
of  having  heard  a  language  of  which  they  understood  not  a 
word,  but  which  they  found  to  be  very  beautiful,  since  the 
king  admired  it. 

Henry  the  Eighth  had  again  leaned  back  on  his  golden 
throne,  and,  panting,  rested  from  his  prodigious  exertion ;  and 
while  he  rested  and  dreamed,  an  invisible  band  played  a  piece 
of  music  composed  by  the  king  himself,  and  which,  with  its  se- 
rious and  solemn  movement,  strangely  contrasted  with  this 
room  so  brilliant  and  cheerful — with  this  splendid,  laughing 
and  jesting  assembly. 

For  the  king  had  bidden  them  amuse  themselves  and  be 
gay  ;  to  give  themselves  up  to  unrestrained  chit-chat.  It  was, 
therefore,  natural  for  them  to  laugh,  and  to  appear  not  to  notice 
the  king's  exhaustion  and  repose. 

Besides,  they  had  not  for  a  long  time  seen  Henry  so  cheer- 
ful, so  full  of  youthful  life,  so  sparkling  with  wit  and  humor, 
as  on  this  evening.  His  mouth  was  overflowing  with  jests 
that  made  the  gentlemen  laugh,  and  the  beautiful,  brilliant 
women  blush,  and,  above  all,  the  young  queen,  who  sat  by  him 
on  the  rich  and  splendid  throne,  and  now  and  then  threw  sto- 
len and  longing  glances  at  her  lover,  for  whom  she  would  wil- 
lingly and  gladly  have  given  her  royal  crown  and  her  throne. 


HENET   VIH.    AND   HIS   COURT.  247 

When  the  king  saw  how  Catharine  blushed,  he  turned  to 
her,  and  in  his  tenderest  tone  begged  her  pardon  for  his  jest, 
which,  however,  in  its  sauciness,  served  only  to  make  his  queen 
still  more  beautiful,  still  more  bewitching.  His  words  were 
then  so  tender  and  heart-felt,  his  looks  so  full  of  love  and  ad- 
miration, that  nobody  could  doubt  but  that  the  queen  was  in 
highest  favor  with  her  husband,  and  that  he  loved  her  most 
tenderly. 

Only  the  few  who  knew  the  secret  of  this  tenderness  of  the 
king,  so  open  and  so  unreservedly  displayed,  comprehended 
fully  the  danger  which  threatened  the  queen  ;  for  the  king  was 
never  more  to  be  dreaded  than  when  he  flattered ;  and  on  no 
one  did  his  wrath  fall  more  crushingly  than  on  him  whom  he 
had  just  kissed  and  assured  of  his  favor. 

This  was  what  Earl  Douglas  said  to  himself,  when  he  saw 
with  what  a  cordial  look  Henry  the  Eighth  chatted  with  his 
consort. 

Behind  the  throne  of  the  royal  pair  was  seen  John  Hey  wood, 
in  his  fantastic  and  dressy  costume,  with  his  face  at  once  noble 
and  cunning ;  and  the  king  just  then  broke  out  into  loud,  re- 
sounding laughter  at  his  sarcastic  and  satirical  observations. 

"  King,  your  laugh  does  not  please  me  to-day,"  said  John 
Heywood,  earnestly.  "  It  smacks  of  gall.  Do  you  not  find 
it  so,  queen  ?  " 

The  queen  was  startled  from  her  sweet  reveries,  and  that 
was  what  John  Heywood  had  wished.  He,  therefore,  repeated 
his  question. 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  she  ;  "  I  find  the  king  to-day  quite  like 
the  sun.  He  is  radiant  and  bright,  like  it." 

"  Queen,  you  do  not  mean  the  sun,  but  the  full  moon,"  said 
John  Heywood.  "  But  only  sec,  Henry,  how  cheerfully  Earl 
Archibald  Douglas  over  there  is  chatting  with  the  Duchess  of 
Ri<  hinond !  I  love  that  good  carl.  lie  always  appears  like  a 
blind-worm,  which  is  just  in  the  notion  of  stinging  some  one 
on  the  liocl,  and  hence  it  comes  %lat,  when  near  the  earl,  I  al- 
ways transform  myself  into  a  crane.  I  stand  on  one  leg ;  be- 


248  HENKY  vm.  A]STD  HIS  COTJET. 

cause  I  am  then  sure  to  have  the  other  at  least  safe  from  the 
earl's  sting.  King,  were  I  like  you,  I  would  not  have  those 
killed  that  the  blind-worm  has  stung  ;  but  I  would  root  out  the 
blind-worms,  that  the  feet  of  honorable  men  might  be  secure 
from  them." 

The  king  cast  at  him  a  quick,  searching  look,  which  John 
Hey  wood  answered  with  a  smile. 

"  Kill  the  blind-worms,  King  Henry,"  said  he  ;  "  and  when 
you  are  once  at  work  destroying  vermin,  it  will  do  no  harm 
if  you  once  more  give  these  priests  also  a  good  kick.  It  is 
now  a  long  time  since  we  burnt  any  of  them,  and  they  are 
again  becoming  arrogant  and  malicious,  as  they  always  were 
and  always  will  be.  I  see  even  the  pious  and  meek  bishop  of 
Winchester,  the  noble  Gardiner,  who  is  entertaining  himself 
with  Lady  Jane  over  there,  smiling  very  cheerfully,  and  that 
is  a  bad  'sign ;  for  Gardiner  smiles  only  when  he  has  again 
caughf  a  poor  soul,  and  prepared  it  as  a  breakfast  for  his  lord.- 
I  do  not  mean  you,  king,  but  his  lord — the  devil.  For  the 
devil  is  always  hungry  for  noble  human  souls ;  and  to  him 
who  catches  one  for  him  he  gives  indulgence  for  his  sins  for 
an  hour.  Therefore  Gardiner  catches  so  many  souls ;  for 
since  he  sins  every  hour,  every  hour  he  needs  indulgence." 

"You  are  very  spiteful  to-day,  John  Hey  wood,"  said  the 
queen,  smiling,  while  the  king  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  ground, 
thoughtful  and  musing. 

John  Heywood's  words  had  touched  the  sore  place  of  his 
heart,  and,  in  spite  of  himself,  filled  his  suspicious  soul  with 
new  doubts. 

He  mistrusted  not  merely  the  accused,  but  the  accusers 
also  ;  and  if  he  punished  the  one  as  criminals,  he  would  have 
.willingly  punished  the  others  also  as  informants. 

He  asked  himself:  "What  aim  had  Earl  Douglas  and 
Gardiner  in  accusing  the  queen ;  and  why  had  they  startled 
him  out  of  his  quiet  and  confidence  ?"  At  that  moment,  when 
he  looked  on  his  beautiful  wKfc,  who  sat  by  him  in  such  serene 
tranquillity,  unembarrassed  and  smiling,  he  felt  a  deep  anger 


HENKT   Vm.    AND   HIS    COURT.  249 

fill  his  heart,  not  against  Catharine,  but  against  Jane,  who 
accused  her. 

She  was  so  lovely  and  beautiful !  Why  did  they  envy 
him  her  ?  Why  did  they  not  leave  him  in  his  sweet  delusion  ? 
But  perhaps  she  was  not  guilty.  No,  she  was  not.  The  eye 
of  a  culprit  is  not  thus  bright  and  clear.  The  air  of  infidelity 
is  not  thus  unembarrassed — of  such  maidenly  delicacy. 

Moreover,  the  king  was  exhausted  and  disgusted.  One  can 
become  satiated  even  with  cruelty ;  and,  at  this  hour,  Henry 
felt  completely  surfeited  with  bloodshed. 

His  heart — for,  in  such  moments  of  mental  relaxation  and 
bodily  enfeeblement,  the  king  even  had  a  heart — his  heart  was 
already  in  the  mood  of  pronouncing  the  word  pardon,  when 
his  eye  fell  on  Henry  Howard,  who,  with  his  father,  the  Duke 
of  Norfolk,  and  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  brilliant  and  noble 
lords,  was  standing  not  far  from  the  royal  throne. 

The  king  felt  a  deadly  stab  in  his  breast,  and  his  eyes 
darted  lightning  over  toward  that  group. 

How  proud  and  imposing  the  figure  of  the  noble  earl 
looked ;  how  high  he  overtopped  all  others ;  how  noble  and 
handsome  his  countenance ;  how  kingly  was  his  bearing  and 
whole  appearance ! 

Henry  must  admit  all  this  ;  and  because  he  must  do  so,  ho 
hated  him. 

Nay  !  no  mercy  for  Catharine  !  If  what  her  accusers  had 
told  him  were  true — if  they  could  give  him  the  proofs  of  the 
queen's  guilt,  then  she  was  doomed.  And  how  could  he  doubt 
it?  Had  they  not  told  him  that  in  the  rosette,  which  the 
queen  would  give  Earl  Surrey,  was  contained  a  love-letter 
from  Catharine,  which  he  would  find  ?  Had  not  Earl  Surrey, 
in  a  confidential  hour,  yesterday  imparted  this  to  his  sister,  the 
Duchess  of  Richmond,  when  he  wished  to  bribe  her  to  be  the 
messenger  of  love  between  the  queen  and  himself?  Had  she 
not  accused  the  queen  of  having  meetings  by  night  with  the 
earl  in  the  deserted  tower? 
11* 


250  HENRY   Vm.   AND   HIS    COUET. 

Nay,  no  compassion  for  his  fair  queen,  if  Henry  Howard 
was  her  lover. 

He  must  again  look  over  at  his  hated  enemy.  There  he 
still  stood  by  his  father,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.  How  sprightly 
and  gracefully  the  old  duke  moved  ;  how  slim  his  form  ;  and 
how  lofty  and  imposing  his  bearing !  The  king  was  younger 
than  the  duke  ;  and  yet  he  was  fettered  to  his  truckle-chair  ; 
yet  he  sat  on  his  throne  like  an  immovable  colossus,  while  he 
moved  freely  and  lightly,  and  obeyed  his  own  will,  not  neces- 
sity. Henry  could  have  crushed  him — this  proud,  arrogant 
earl,  who  was  a  free  man,  whilst  his  king  was  nothing  but  a 
prisoner  to  his  own  flesh,  a  slave  of  his  unwieldy  body. 

"I  will  exterminate  it — this  proud,  arrogant  race  of 
Howards  ! "  muttered  the  king,  as  he  turned  with  a  friendly 
smile  to  the  Earl  of  Surrey. 

"  You  have  promised  us  some  of  your  poems,  cousin ! " 
said  he.  "  So  let  us  now  enjoy  them  ;  for  you  see,  indeed,  how 
impatiently  all  the  beautiful  women  look  on  England's  noblest 
and  greatest  poet,  and  how  very  angry  with  me  they  would 
be  if  I  still  longer  withhold  this  enjoyment  from  them  !  Even 
my  fair  queen  is  full  of  longing  after  your  songs,  so  rich  in 
fancy ;  for  you  well  know,  Howard,  she  loves  poetry,  and, 
above  all  things,  yours." 

Catharine  had  scarcely  heard  what  the  king  said.  Her 
looks  had  encountered  Seymour's,  and  their  eyes  were  fixed  on 
each  other's.  But  she  had  then  cast  down  to  the  floor  her 
eyes,  still  completely  filled  with  the  sight  of  her  lover,  in  order 
to  think  of  him,  since  she  no  longer  dared  gaze  at  him. 

When  the  king  called  her  name,  she  started  up  and  looked 
at  him  inquiringly.  She  had  not  heard  what  he  had  said 
to  her. 

"  Not  even  for  a  moment  does  she  look  toward  me  !  "  said 
Henry  Howard  to  himself.  "  Oh,  she  loves  me  not !  or  at 
least  her  understanding  is  mightier  than  her  love.  Oh,  Cath- 
arine, Catharine,  fearest  thou  death  so  much  that  thou  canst 
on  that  account  deny  thy  love  ?  " 


HENET  TUT.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  251 

With  desperate  haste  he  drew  out  his  portfolio.  "  I  will 
compel  her  to  look  at  me,  to  think  of  me,  to  remember  her 
oath,"  thought  he.  "  Woe  to  her,  if  she  does  not  fulfil  it — if  she 
gives  me  not  the  rosette,  which  she  promised  me  with  so  sol- 
emn a  vow  !  If  she  does  it  not,  then  I  will  break  this  dread- 
ful silence,  and  before  her  king,  and  before  her  court,  accuse 
her  of  treachery  to  her  love.  Then,  at  least,  she  will  not  be 
able  to  cast  me  off;  for  we  shall  mount  the  scaffold  together." 

"Does  my  exalted  queen  allow  me  to  begin?"  asked  he 
aloud,  wholly  forgetting  that  the  king  had  already  given  him 
the  order  to  do  so,  and  that  it  was  he  only  who  could  grant 
such  a  permission. 

Catharine  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  Then  her 
glance  fell  on  Lady  Jane  Douglas,  who  was  gazing  over  at 
her  with  an  imploring  expression.  The  queen  smiled ;  for 
she  now  remembered  that  it  was  Jane's  beloved  who  had 
spoken  to  her,  and  that  she  had  promised  the  poor  young  girl 
to  raise  again  the  dejected  earl  of  Surrey  and  to  be  gracious 
to  him.  • 

"  Jane  is  right,"  thought  she ;  "  he  appears  to  be  deeply 
depressed  and  suffering.  Ah,  it  must  be  very  painful  to  see 
those  whom  one  loves  suffering.  I  will,  therefore,  comply 
with  Jane's  request,  for  she  says  this  might  revive  the  earl." 

AVitli  a  smile  she  bowed  to  Howard.  "I  beg  you,"  said 
she,  "  to  lend  our  festival  its  fairest  ornament — to  adorn  it  with 
the  fragrant  flowers  of  your  poesy.  You  see  we  are  all  burn- 
ing with  desire  to  hear  your  verses." 

The  king  shook  with  rage,  and  a  crushing  word  was  al- 
ready 'poised  upon  his  lip.  But  he  restrained  himself.  Ho 
wanted  to  have  proofs  first ;  he  wanted  to  see  them  not  mere- 
ly accused,  but  doomed  also ;  and  for  that  he  needed  proofs 
of  their  guilt. 

Henry  Howard  now  approached  the  throne  of  the  royal 
pair,  and  with  beaming  looks,  with  animated  countenance, 
with  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion,  he  read  his  love-song  to 
the  fair  Geraldine. 


252  HENBY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUBT. 

A  murmur  of  applause  arose  when  he  had  read  his  first 
sonnet.  The  king  only  looked  gloomily,  with  fixed  eyes  ;  the 
queen  alone  remained  uninterested  and  cold. 

"  She  is  a  complete  actress,"  thought  Henry  Howard,  in 
the  madness  of  his  pain.  "  Not  a  muscle  of  her  face  stirs  ; 
and  yet  this  sonnet  must  remind  her  of  the  fairest  and  most 
sacred  moment  of  our  love." 

The  queen  remained  unmoved  and  cold.  But  had  Henry 
Howard  looked  at  Lady  Jane  Douglas,  he  would  have  seen 
how  she  turned  pale  and  blushed  ;  how  she  smiled  with  rap- 
ture, and  how,  nevertheless,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

Earl  Surrey,  however,  saw  nothing  but  the  queen ;  and 
the  sight  of  her  made  him  tremble  with  rage  and  pain.  His 
eyes  darted  lightning ;  his  countenance  glowed  with  passion ; 
his  whole  being  was  in  desperate,  enthusiastic  excitement. 
At  that  moment  he  would  have  gladly  breathed  out  his  life  at 
Geraldine's  feet,  if  she  would  only  recognize  him — if  she 
would  only  have  the  courage  to  call  him  her  beloved. 

But  her  smiling  calmness,  her  friendly  coolness,  brought 
him  to  despair. 

He  crumpled  the  paper  in  his  hand ;  the  letters  danced 
before  his  eyes  ;  he  could  read  no  more. 

But  he  would  not  remain  mute,  either.  Like  the  dying 
swan,  he  would  breathe  out  his  pain  in  a  last  song,  and  give 
sound  and  words  to  his  despair  and  his  agony.  He  could  no 
longer  read  ;  but  he  improvised. 

Like  a  glowing  stream  of  lava,  the  words  flowed  from  his 
lips ;  in  fiery  dithyrambic,  in  impassioned  hymns,  he  poured 
forth  his  love  and  pain.  The  genius  of  poesy  hovered  over 
him  and  lighted  up  his  noble  and  thoughtful  brow. 

He  was  radiantly  beaiitiful  in  his  enthusiasm ;  and  even 
the  queen  felt  herself  carried  away  by  his  words. 

His  plaints  of  love,  his  longing  pains,  his  rapture  and  his 
sad  fancies,  found  an  echo  in  her  heart. 

She  understood  him ;  for  she  felt  the  same  joy,  the  same 
sorrow  and  the  same  rapture ;  only  she  did  not  feel  all  this 
for  him. 


HENEY   VHI.    AND   HIS    COUET.  253 

But,  as  we  have  said,  he  enchanted  her  ;  the  current  of  his 
passion*  carried  her  away.  She  wept  at  his  laments ;  she 
smiled  at  his  hymns  of  joy. 

When  Henry  Howard  at  length  ceased,  profound  silence 
reigned  in  the  vast  and  brilliant  royal  hall. 

All  faces  betrayed  deep  emotion  ;  and  this  universal  silence 
was  the  poet's  fairest  triumph  ;  for  it  showed  that  even  envy 
and  jealousy  were  dumb,  and  that  scorn  itself  could  find  no 
words. 

A  momentary  pause  ensued ;  it  resembled  that  sultry, 
ominous  stillness  which  is  wont  to  precede  the  bursting  of  a 
tempest ;  when  Nature  stops  a  moment  in  breathless  stillness, 
to  gather  strength  for  the  uproar  of  the  storm. 

It  was  a  significant,  an  awful  pause ;  but  only  a  few 
understood  its  meaning. 

Lady  Jane  leaned  against  the  wall,  completely  shattered  and 
breathless.  She  felt  that  the  sword  was  hanging  over  their 
heads,  and  that  it  would  destroy  her  if  it  struck  her  beloved. 

Earl  Douglas  and  the  Bishop  of  Winchester  had  involun- 
tarily drawn  near  each  other,  and  stood  there  hand  in  hand, 
united  for  this  unholy  struggle ;  while  John  Hey  wood  had 
crept  behind  the  king's  throne,  and  in  his  sarcastic  manner 
whispered  in  his  ear  some  epigrams,  that  made  the  king  smile 
in  spite  of  himself. 

But  now  the  queen  arose  from  her  seat,  and  beckoned 
Henry  Howard  nearer  to  her. 

"  My  lord,"  said  she,  almost  with  solemnity,  "  as  a  queen 
and. as  a  woman  I  thank  you  for  the  noble  and  sublime  lyrics 
which  you  have  composed  in  honor  of  a  woman !  And  for 
that  the  grace  of  my  king  has  exalted  me  to  be  the  first 
woman  in  England,  it  becomes  me,  in  the  name  of  all  women, 
to  return  to  you  my  thanks.  To  the  poet  is  duo  a  reward 
other  than  that  of  the  warrior.  To  the  victor  on  the  battle- 
field is  awarded  a  laurel  crown.  But  you  have  gained  a 
victory  not  less  glorious,  for  you  have  conquered  hearts  !  Wo 
acknowledge  ourselves  vanquished,  and  in  the  name  of  all  thcso 


254:  HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

noble  women,  I  proclaim  you  their  knight !  la  token  of 
which,  accept  this  rosette,  my  lord.  It  entitles  you  to  wear 
the  queen's  colors ;  it  lays  you  under  obligation  to  be  the 
knight  of  all  women !  " 

She  loosened  the  rosette  from  her  shoulder,  and  handed  it 
to  the  earl. 

He  had  sunk  on  one  knee  before  her,  and  already  extended 
his  hand  to  receive  this  precious  and  coveted  pledge'. 

But  at  this  moment  the  king  arose,  and,  with  an  imperious 
gesture,  held  back  the  queen's  hand. 

"  Allow  me,  my  lady,"  said  he,  in  a  voice  quivering  with 
rage — "  allow  me  first  to  examine  this  rosette,  and  convince 
myself  that  it  is  worth  enough  to  be  presented  to  the  noble 
earl  as  his  sole  reward.  Let  me  see  this  rosette." 

Catharine  looked  with  astonishment  into  that  face  con- 
vulsed with  passion  and  fury,  but  without  hesitation  she 
handed  him  the  rosette. 

"  We  are  lost !  "  murmured  Earl  Surrey,  while  Earl  Doug- 
las and  Gardiner  exchanged  with  eac.h  other  looks  of  triumph ; 
and  Jane  Douglas  murmured  in  her  trembling  heart  prayers  of 
anxiety  and  dread,  scarcely  hearing  the  malicious  and  exult- 
ant words  which  the  Duchess  of  Richmond  was  whispering  in 
her  ear. 

The  king  held  the  rosette  in  his  hand  and  examined  it. 
But  his  hands  trembled  so  much  that  he  was  unable  to  unfasten 
the  clasp  which  held  it  together. 

He,  therefore,  handed  it  to  John  Heywood.  "  These  dia- 
monds are  poor,"  said  he,  in  a  curt,  dry  tone.  "  Unfasten  the 
clasp,  fool ;  we  will  replace  it  with  this  pin  here.  Then  will  the 
present  gain  for  the  earl  a  double  value ;  for  it  will  come  at 
the  same  time  from  me  and  from  the  queen." 

"  How  gracious  you  are  to-day  ! "  said  John  Heywood,  smil- 
ing— "  as  gracious  as  the  cat,  that  plays  a  little  longer  with  the 
mouse  before  she  devours  it." 

"  Unfasten  the  clasp  !  "  exclaimed  the  king,  in  a  thundering 
voice,  no  longer  able  to  conceal  his  rage.  Slowly  John  Hey- 


HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  255 

wood  unfastened  the  clasp  from  the  ribbon.  He  did  it  with 
intentional  slowness  ^and  deliberation  ;  he  let  the  king  see  all 
his  movements,  every  turn  of  his  fingers  ;  and  it  delighted  him 
to  hold  those  who  had  woven  this  plot,  in  dreadful  suspense  and 
expectation. 

Whilst  he  appeared  perfectly  innocent  and  unembarrassed, 
his  keen,  piercing  glance  ran  over  the  whole  assembly,  and  he 
noticed  well  the  trembling  impatience  of  Gardiner  and  Earl 
Douglas  ;  and  it  did  not  escape  him  how  pale  Lady  Jane  was, 
and  how  full  of  expectation  were  the  intent  features  of  the 
Duchess  of  Richmond. 

"  They  are  the  ones  with  whom  this  conspiracy  originated," 
said  John  Hey  wood  to  himself.  "  But  I  will  keep  silejice  till 
I  can  one  day  convict  them." 

"  There,  here  is  the  clasp  !  "  said  he  then  aloud  to  the  king. 
"  It  stuck  as  tightly  in  the  ribbon  as  malice  in  the  hearts  of 
priests  and  courtiers  !  " 

The  king  snatched  the  ribbon  out  of  his  hand,  and  exam- 
ined it  by  drawing  it  through  his  fingers. 

"  Nothing  !  nothing  at  all ! "  said  he,  gnashing  his  teeth  ; 
and  now,  deceived  in  his  expectations  and  suppositions,  he 
could  no  longer  muster  strength  to  withstand  that  roaring  tor- 
rent of  wrath  which  overflowed  his  heart.  The  tiger  was 
again  aroused  in  him  ;  he  had  calmly  waited  for  the  moment 
when  the  promised  prey  would  be  brought  to  him  :  now,  when 
it  seemed  to  be  escaping  him,  his  savage  and  cruel  disposition 
started  up  within  him.  The  tiger  panted  and  thirsted  for 
blood ;  and  that  he  was  not  to  get  it,  made  him  raging  with 
fury. 

With  a  wild  movement  ho  tlirew  the  rosette  on  the  ground, 
and  raised  his  arm  menacingly  toward  Henry  Howard. 

"  Dare  not  to  touch  that  rosette,"  cried  he,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  "before  you  have  exculpated  yourself  from  the  guilt 
of  which  you  arc  accused.1" 

Karl  Surrey  looked  him  steadily  and  boldly  in  the  eye. 
"  Have  I  been  accused,  then?"  asked  he.  "  Then  I  demand, 


256  HENEY   VIII.   AND   HIS   COTJKT. 

first  of  all,  that  I  be  confronted  with  my  accusers,  and  that  my 
fault  be  named ! " 

"Ha,  traitor!  Do  you  dare  to  brave  me?"  yelled  the 
king,  stamping  furiously  with  his  foot.  "  Well,  now,  I  will 
be  your  accuser  and  I  will  be  your  judge  !  " 

"  And  surely,  my  king  and  husband,  you  will  be  a  right 
eous  judge,"  said  Catharine,  as  she  inclined  imploringly  tow- 
ard the  king  and  grasped  his  hand.     "  You  will  not  condemn 
the  noble  Earl  Surrey  without  ha*viug  heard  him  ;  and  if  you 
find  him  guiltless,  you  will  punish  his  accusers  ?  " 

But  this  intercession  of  the  queen  made  the  king  raging. 
He  threw  her  hand  from  him,  and  gazed  at  her  with  looks  of 
Such  flaming  wrath,  that  she  involuntarily  trembled. 

"  Traitoress  yourself!  "  yelled  he,  wildly.  "  Speak  not  of 
innocence — you  who  are  yourself  guilty  ;  and  before  you  dare 
defend  the  earl,  defend  yourself!  " 

Catharine  rose  from  her  seat  and  looked  with  flashing  eyes 
into  the  king's  face  blazing  with  wrath.  "  King  Henry  of  Eng- 
land," said  she,  solemnly,  "  you  have  openly,  before  your  whole 
court,  accused  your  queen  of  a  crime.  I  now  demand  that 
you  name  it ! " 

She  was  of  wondrous  beauty  in  her  proud,  bold  bearing — 
in  her  imposing,  majestic  tranquillity. 

The  decisive  moment  had  come,  and  she  was  conscious 
that  her  life  and  her  future  were  struggling  with  death  for-  the 
victory. 

She  looked  over  to  Thomas  Seymour,  and  their  eyes  met. 
She  saw  how  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  sword,  and  nodded  to 
her  a  smiling  greeting. 

"  He  will  defend  me  ;  and  before  he  will  suflfer  me  to  be 
dragged  to  the  Tower,  he  himself  will  plunge  his  sword  into 
iny  breast,"  thought  she,  and  a  joyous,  triumphant  assurance 
filled  her  whole  heart. 

She  saw  nothing  but  him,  who  had  sworn  to  die  with  her 
when  the  decisive  moment  came.  She  looked  with  a  smile  on 
that  blade  which  he  had  already  half  drawn  from  its  scabbard ; 
and  she  hailed  it  as  a  dear,  long-yearned-for  friend. 


HENEY   VIII.    AND   III8   COUKT.  257 

She  saw  not  that  Henry  Howard  also  bad  lain  his  hand  on 
his  sword  ;  that  he,  too,  was  ready  for  her  defence,  firmly  re- 
solved to  slay  the  king  himself,  before  his  mouth  uttered  the 
sentence  of  death  over  the  queen. 

But  Lady  Jane  Douglas  saw  it.  She  understood  how  to 
read  the  earl's  countenance ;  she  felt  that  he  was  ready  to  go 
to  death  for  his  beloved  ;  and  it  filled  her  heart  at  once  with 
woe  and  rapture. 

She,  too,  was  now  firmly  resolved  to  follow  her  heart  dnd 
her  love  ;.  and,  forgetting  all  else  besides  these,  she  hastened 
forward,  and  was  now  standing  by  Henry  Howard. 

"Be  prudent,  Earl  Surrey,"  said  she,- in  a  low  whisper. 
"  Take  your  hand  from  your  sword.  The  queen,  by  my 
mouth,  commands  you  to  do  so  !  " 

Henry  Howard  looked  at  her  astonished  and  surprised ; 
but  he  let  his  hand  slip  from  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  and  again 
looked  toward  the  queen. 

She  had  repeated  her  demand ;  she  had  once  more  de- 
manded of  the  king — who,  speechless  and  completely  over- 
come with  nnger,  had  fallen  back  into  his  seat — to  name  the 
crime  of  which  she  was  accused. 

"  Now,  then,  my  queen,  you  demand  it,  and  you  shall  hear 
it,"  cried  he.  "  You  want  to  know  the  crime  of  which  you  are 
accused?  Answer  me  then,  my  lady!  They  accuse  you  of 
not  always  staying  at  night  in  your  sleeping-room.  It  is  al- 
leged that  you  sometimes  leave  it  for  many  hours ;  and  that 
none  of  your  women  accompanied  you  when  you  glided  through 
the  corridors  and  up  the  secret  stairs  to  the  lonely  tower,  in 
which  was  waiting  for  you  your  lover,  who  at  the  same  time 
entered  the  tower  through  the  small  street  door." 

'*  He  knows  all !  "  muttered  Henry  Howard  ;  and  again  ho 
laid  his  hand  on  his  sword,  and  was  about  to  approach  the 
queen. 

Lady  Jane  held  him  back.  "  Wait  for  the  issue,"  said  she. 
"  There  is  still  time  to  die  !  " 

"  He  knows  all !  "  thought  the  queen  also  ;  and  now  she 


258  HENKY  vm.  AOT>  HIS  COUET. 

felt  within  herself  the  daring  courage  to  risk  all,  that  at  least 
s?\e  might  not  stand  there  a  traitoress  in  the  eyes  of  her  lover. 

"  He  shall  not  believe  that  I  have  been  untrue  to  him," 
thought  she.  "  I  will  tell  all — confess  all,  that  he  may  know 
why  I  went  and  whither." 

"  Now  answer,  my  Lady  Catharine  !  "  thundered  the  king. 
"  Answer,  and  tell  me  whether  you  have  been  falsely  accused. 
Is  it  true  that  you,  eight  days  ago,  in  the  night  between  Mon- 
day and  Tuesday,  left  your  sleeping-room  at  the  hour  of  mid- 
night, and  went  secretly  to  the  lonely  tower?  Is  it  true  that 
you  received  there  a  man  who  is  your  lover?" 

The  queen  looked  at  him  in  angry  pride.  "  Henry,  Henry, 
woe  to  you,  that  you  dare  thus  insult  your  own  wife !  "  cried 
she. 

"  Answer  me  !  You  were  not  on  that  r/ight  in  your  sleep- 
ing-room ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Catharine,  with  dignified  composure,  "  I  was 
not  there." 

The  king  sank  back  in  his  seat,  and  a  real  roar  of  fury 
sounded  from  his  lips.  It  made  the  women  turn  pale,  and 
even  the  men  felt  themselves  tremble. 

Catharine  alone  had  not  heeded  it  at  all ;  she  alone  had 
heard  nothing  save  that  cry  of  amazement  which  Thomas 
Seymour  uttered  ;  and  she  saw  only  the  angry  and  upbraiding 
looks  which  he  threw  across  at  her. 

She  answered  these  looks  with  a  friendly  and  confident 
smile,  and  pressed  both  her  hands  to  her  heart,  as  she  looked 
at  him. 

"  I  will  justify  myself  before  him  at  least,"  thought  she. 

The  king  had  recovered  from  his  first  shock.  He  again 
raised  himself  up,  and  his  countenance  now  exhibited  a  fear- 
ful, threatening  coolness. 

"  You  confess,  then,"  asked  he,  "  that  you  were  not  in 
your  sleeping-room  on  that  night  ?  " 

"I  have  already  said  so,"  exclaimed  Catharine,  impa- 
tiently. 


HENBY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COURT.  259 

The  king  compressed  his  lips  so  violently,  that  they  bled 
"And  a  man  was  with  you?"  asked  he — "a  man  with 
whom  you  made  an  assignation,  and  whom  you  received  in  the 
lonely  tower?" 

"  A  man  was  with  me.  But  I  did  not  receivehim  in  the 
lonely  tower ;  and  it  was  no  assignation." 

"  Who  was  that  man  ?  "  yelled  the  king.  "  Answer  me  ! 
Tell  me  his  name,  if  you  do  not  want  me  to  strangle  you  my- 
self!" 

"King  Henry,  I  fear  death  no  longer !"  said  Catharine, 
with  a  contemptuous  smile. 

"  Who  was  that  man  ?  Tell  me  his  name  !  "  yelled  the 
king  once  more. 

The  queen  raised  herself  more  proudly,  and  her  defiant  look 
ran  over  the  whole  assembly. 

"  The  man,"  said  she,  solemnly,  "  who  was  with  me  on  that 
night — he  is  named — " 

u  He  is  named  John  Heywood  !  "  said  this  individual,  as 
he  seriously  and  proudly  walked  forward  from  behind  the 
king's  throne.  "  Yes,  Henry,  your  brother,  the  fool  John 
Heywood,  had  on  that  night  the  proud  honor  of  accompanying 
your  consort  on  her  Jioly  errand ;  but,  I  assure  you,  that  he 
was  less  liko  the  king,  than  the  king  is  just  now  like  the  fool." 

A  murmur  of  surprise  ran  through  the  assembly.  The 
king  leaned  back  in  his  royal  seat  speechless. 

"  And  now,  King  Henry,"  said  Catharine,  calmly — "  now  I 
will  tell  you  whither  I  went  with  John  Heywood  on  that 
night." 

She  was  silent,  and  for  a  moment  leaned  back  on  her 
scat.  She  felt  that  the  looks  of  all  were  directed  to  her ;  she 
heard  the  king's  wrathful  groan  ;  she  felt  her  lover's  flashing, 
reproachful  glances ;  she  saw  the  derisive  smile  of  those 
haughty  ladies,  who  had  never  forgiven  her — that  she,  from  a 
simple  baroness,  had  become  queen.  But  all  this  made  her 
only  still  bolder  and  more  courageous. 

She  had  arrived  at  the  turning-point  of  her  life,  where  sho 
must  risk  every  thing  to  avoid  sinking  into  the  abyss. 


260  HEJSTKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

But  Lady  Jane  also  had  arrived  at  such  a  decisive  moment 
of  her  existence.  She,  too,  said  to  herself:  "  I  must  at  this 
hour  risk  all,  if  I  do  not  want  to  lose  all."  She  saw  Henry 
Howard's  pale,  expectant  face.  She  knew,  if  the  queen  now 
spoke,  the  whole  web  of  their  conspiracy  would  be  revealed  to 
him. 

She  must,  therefore,  anticipate  the  queen.  She  must  warn 
Henry  Howard. 

"  Fear  nothing  !  "  whispered  she  to  him.  "  We  were  pre- 
pared for  that.  I  have  put  into  her  hands  the  means  of  es- 
cape ! " 

"  "Will  you  now  at  last  speak  ?  "  exclaimed  the  king,  quiv- 
ering with  impatience  and  rage.  "  Will  you  at  last  tell  us 
where  you  were  on  that  night  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell !  "  exclaimed  Catharine,  rising  up  again  boldly 
and  resolutely.  "  But  woe  be  to  those  who  drive  me  to  this  I 
For  I  tell  you  beforehand,  from  the  accused  I  will  become  an 
accuser  who  demands  justice,  if  not  before  the  throne  of  the 
King  of  England,  yet  before  the  throne  of  the  Lord  of  all  kings  ! 
King  Henry  of  England,  do  you  ask  me  whither  I  went  on  that 
night  with  John  Heywood  ?  I  might,  perhaps,  as  your  queen 
and  consort,  demand  that  you  put  this  question  to  me  not  be- 
fore so  many  witnesses,  but  in  the  quiet  of  our  chamber  ;  but 
you  seek  publicity,  and  I  do  not  shun  it.  Well,  hear  the  truth, 
then,  all  of  you  !  On  that  night,  between  Monday  and  Tues- 
day, I  was  not  in  my  sleeping-apartment,  because  I  had  a 
grave  and  sacred  duty  to  perform  ;  because  a  dying  woman 
called  on  me  for  help  and  pity !  Would  you  know,  iny  lord 
and  husband,  who "  this  dying  woman  was  ?  It  was  Anne 
Askew ! " 

"Anne  Askew  !"  .exclaimed  the  king  in  astonishment; 
and  his  countenance  exhibited  a  less  wrathful  expression. 

"  Anne  Askew  !  "  muttered  the  others  ;  and  John  Heywood 
very  well  saw  how  Bishop  Gardiner's  brow  darkened,  and  how 
Chancellor  Wriothesley  turned  pale  and  cast  down  his  eyes. 

"  Yes,  I  was  with  Anne  Askew  !  "  continued  the  rfueen — - 


HENKT   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  261 

"  -with  Anne  Askew,  whom  those  pious  and  wise  lords  yon- 
der had  condemned,  not  so  much  on  account  of  her  faith,  but 
hecause  they  knew  that  I  loved  her.,  Anne  Askew  was  to  die, 
because  Catharine  Parr  loved  her  !  She  was  to  go  to  the  stake, 
that  my  heart  also  might  burn  with  fiery  pains  !  And  because 
it  was  so,  I  \vas  obliged  to  risk  every  thing  in  order  to  save 
her.  Oh,  my  king,  say  yourself,  did  I  not  owe  it  to  this  poor 
girl  to  try  every  thing  in  order  to  save  her  ?  On  my  account 
she  was  to  suffer  these  tortures.  For  they  had  shamefully 
stolen  from  me  a  letter  which  Anne  Askew,  in  the  distress  of 
her  heart,  had  addressed  to  me  ;  and  they  showed  this  letter  to 
you  in  order  to  cast  suspicion  on  me  and  accuse  me  to  you. 
But  your  noble  heart  repelled  the  suspicion ;  and  now  their 
wrath  fell  again  on  Anne  Askew,  and  she  must  suffer,  because 
they  did  not  find  me  punishable.  She  must  atone  for  having 
dared  to  write  to  me.  They  worked  matters  with  you  so  that 
she  was  put  to  the  rack.  But  when  my  husband  gave  way  to 
their  urging,  yet  the  noble  king  remained  still  awake  in  him. 
'  Go,'  said  he,  '  rack  her  and  kill  her ;  but  see  first  whether 
she  will  not  recant.' " 

Henry  looked  astonished  into  her  noble  and  defiant  face. 
"  Do  you  know  that?"  asked  he.  "And  yet  we  Avere  alone, 
and  no  human  being  present.  "Who  could  tell  you  that  ?  " 

"  When  man  is  no  longer  able  to  •  help,  then  God  under- 
takes ! "  said  Catharine  solemnly.  "  It  was  God  who  command- 
ed me  to  go  to  Anne  Askew,  and  try  whether  I  could  save 
her.  And  I  went.  But  though  the  wife  of  a  noble  and  great 
king,  I  am  still  but  a  weak  and  timid  woman.  I  was  afraid 
to  tread  this  gloomy  and  dangerous  path  alone ;  I  needed  a 
strong  manly  arm  to  lean  upon ;  and  so  John  Heywood  lent 
me  his." 

'•  And  you  were  really  with  Anno  Askew,  interposed  the 
kiiiLr,  thoughtfully — "  with  that  hardened  sinner,  who  despised 
mercy,  and  in  the  stubbornness  of  her  soul  would  not  be  a  par- 
taker of  the  pardon  that  I  offered  her?" 

"  My  lord  and  husband,"  said  the  queen,  with  tears  in  her 


262  HENRY   VIII.    AND    HIS   COUET. 

eyes,  "  she  whom  you  have  just  accused  stands  even  now  before 
the  throne  of  the  Lord,  and  has  received  from  her  God  the  for- 
giveness of  her  sins  !  Therefore,  do  you  likewise  pardon  her  ; 
and  may  the  flames  of  the  stake,  to  which  yesterday  the  nohle  vir- 
gin body  of  this  girl  was  bound,  have  consumed  also  the  wrath 
and  hatred  which  had  been  kindled  in  your  heart  against  her ! 
Anne  Askew  passed  away  like  a  saint ;  for  she  forgave  all  her 
enemies  and  blessed  her  tormentors." 

u  Anne  Askew  was  a  damnable  sinner,  who  dared  resist 
the  command  of  her  lord  and  king ! "  interrupted  Bishop  Gar- 
diner, looking  daggers  at  her. 

"  And  dare  you  maintain,  my  lord,  that  you  at  that  time 
fulfilled  the  commands  of  your  royal  master  simply  and  exact- 
ly ?  "  asked  Catharine.  "  Did  you  keep  within  them  with  respect 
to  Anne  Askew  ?  No  !  I  say  ;  for  the  king  had  not  ordered 
you  to  torture  her ;  he  had  not  bidden  you  to  lacerate  in  blas- 
phemous wrath  a  noble  human  form,  and  distort  that  likeness 
of  God  into  a  horrible  caricature.  And  that,  my  lord,  you 
did !  Before  God  and  your  king,  I  accuse  you  of  it — I,  the 
queen !  For  you  know,  my  lord  and  husband,  I  was  there  when 
Anne  Askew  was  racked.  I  saw  her  agony ;  and  John  Hey- 
wood  saw  it  with  me." 

The  eyes  of  all  were  now  directed  inquiringly  to  the  king, 
of  whose  ferocity  and  choler  every  one  expected  a  violent  out- 
break. • 

But  this  time  they  were  mistaken.  The  king  was  so  well 
satisfied  to  find  his  consort  clear  of  the  crime  laid  to  her  charge, 
that  he  willingly  forgave  her  for  having  committed  a  crime  of 
less  weighty  character.  Besides,  it  filled  him  with  respect  to 
see  his  consort  confronting  her  accusers  so  boldly  and  proudly  ; 
and  he  felt  toward  them  just  as  burning  wrath  and  hatred  as 
he  had  before  harbored  against  the  queen.  He  was  pleased 
that  the  malignant  and  persistent  persecutors  of  his  fair  and 
proud  wife  should  now  be  humbled  by  her  before  the  eyes  of 
all  his  court. 

Therefore  he  looked  at  her  with  an  imperceptible  smile, 


HENRY   Vin.    AND    HIS    COUIIT.  263 

and  said  with  deep  interest :  "  But  how  could  this  happen,  my 
lady  ?  By  what  path  did  you  get  thither  ?  " 

"  That  is  an  inquiry  which  any  one  except  the  king  is 
authorized  to  make.  King  Henry  alone  knows  the  way  that 
I  went !  "  said  Catharine,  with  a  slight  smile. 

John  Hey  wood,  who  was  still  standing  behind  the  king's 
throne,  now  bent  down  close  to  Henry's  ear,  and  spoke  with 
him  a  long  time  in  a  quick,  low  tone. 

The  king  listened  to  him  attentively ;  then  he  murmured 
so  loud  that  the  bystanders  could  very  well  understand  him : 
"  By  God,  she  is  a  spirited  and  brave  woman  ;  and  we  should 
be  obliged  to  confess  that,  eveij  were  she  not  our  queen ! " 

"  Continue,  my  lady  ! "  said  he  then  aloud,  turning  to  the 
queen  with  a  gracious  look.  "  Relate  to  me,  Catharine,  what 
saw  you  then  in  the  torture-chamber  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  king  and  lord,  it  horrifies  me  only  to  think  of 
it,"  cried  she,  shuddering  and  turning  pale.  "  I  -saw  a  poor 
young  woman  who  writhed  in  fearful  agony,  and  whose  star- 
ing eyes  were  raised  in  mute  supplication  to  Heaven.  She  did 
not  beg  her  tormentors  for  mercy  ;  she  wanted  from  them  no 
compassion  and  no  pity ;  she  did  not  scream  and  whine  from 
the  pain,  though  her  limbs  cracked  and  her  flesh  snapped 
apart  like  glass  ;  she  raised  her  clasped  hands  to  God,  and  her 
lips  murmured  low  prayers,  which,  perhaps,  made  the  angels 
of  heaven  weep,  but  were  not  able  tp  touch  the  hearts  of  her 
tormentors.  You  had  ordered  her  to  be  racked,  if  she  would 
not  retract.  They  did  not  ask  her  whether  she  would  do  this 
— they  racked  her.  But  her  soul  was  strong  and  full  of  cour- 
age ;  and,  under  the  tortures  of  the  executioner,  her  lips 
remained  mute.  Let  theologians  say  and  determine  whether 
Anno  Askew's  fuith  was  a  false  one ;  but  this  they  will  not 
dare  deny :  that  in  the  noble  enthusiasm  of  this  faith,  she  was 
a  heroine  who  at  least  did  not  deny  her  God.  At  length, 
worn  out  with  so  much  useless  exertion,  the  assistant  execu- 
tioners discontinued  their  bloody  work,  to  rest  from  the  tor- 
tures which  they  had  prepared  for  Anne  Askew.  The  lieu 


264:  fiENKY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

tenant  of  the  Tower  declared  the  work  of  the  rack  ended. 
The  highest  degrees  had  been  applied,  and  they  had  proved 
powerless ;  cruelty  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  itself  con- 
quered. But  the  priests  of  the  Church,  with  savage  vehe- 
mence, demanded  that  she  should  be  racked  once  more.  Dare 
deny  that,  ye  lords,  whom  I  behold  standing  there  opposite 
with  faces  pale  as  death  !  Yes,  my  king,  the  servants  of  the 
rack  refused  to  obey  the  servants  of  God ;  for  in  the  hearts  of 
the  hangman's  drudges  there  was  more  pity  than  in  the  hearts 
of  the  priests !  And  when  they  refused  to  proceed  in  their 
bloody  work,  and  when  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  in  virtue 
of  the  existing  law,  declared  the»racking  at  a  a  end,  then  I  saw 
one  of  the  first  ministers  of  our  Church  throw  aside  his  sacred 
garments  ;  then  the  priest  of  God  transformed  himself  into  a 
hangman's  drudge,  who,  with  bloodthirsty  delight,  lacerated 
anew  the  noble  mangled  body  of  the  young  girl,  and  more 
cruel  than  the  attendants  of  the  rack,  unsparingly  they  broke 
and  dislocated  the  limbs,  which  they  had  onty  squeezed  in  their 
screws.*  Excuse  me,  my  king,  from  sketching  this  scene  of 
horror  still  further  !  Horrified  and  trembling,  I  fled  from  that 
frightful  place,  and  returned  to  my  room,  shattered  and  sad 
at  heart." 

Catharine  ceased,  exhausted,  and  sank  back  into  her  seat. 

A  breathless  stillness  reigned  around.  All  faces  were  pale 
and  colorless.  Gardiner  and  Wriothesley  stood  with  their 
eyes  fixed,  gloomy  and  defiant,  expecting  that  the  king's  wrath 
would  crush  and  destroy  them. 

But  the  king  scarcely  thought  of  them ;  he  thought  only 
of  his  fair  young  queen,  whose  boldness  inspired  him  with 
respect,  and  whose  innocence  and  purity  filled  him  with  a 
proud  and  blissful  joy. 

He  waSf  therefore,  very  much  inclined  to  forgive  those 
who  in  reality  had  committed  no  offence  further  than  this,  that 
they  had  carried  out  a  little  too  literally  and  strictly  the  orders 
of  their  master. 

*  Burnet's  "History  of  the  Reformation,"  vol.  i.,  page  132. 


HKNEY  Tin.    AND    HIS   COURT.  265 

A  long  pause  had  ensued — a  pause  full  of  expectation-  and 
anxiety  for  all  who  were  assembled  in  the  hall.  Only  Catha- 
rine reclined  calmly  in  her  chair,  and  with  beaming  eyes 
looked  across  to  Thomas  Seymour,  whose  handsome  counte- 
nance betrayed  to  her  the  gratification  and  satisfaction  which 
he  felt  at  this  clearing  up  of  her  mysterious  night-wandering. 

At  last  the  king  arose,  and,  bowing  low  before  his  consort, 
said  in  a  loud,  full-toned  voice :  "  I  have  deeply  and  bitterly 
injured  you,  my  noble  wife  ;  and  as  I  publicly  accused  you,  I 
will  also  publicly  ask  your  forgiveness  !  You  have  a  right  to 
be  angry  with  me  ;  for  it  behooved  me,  above  all,  to  believe 
with  unshaken  firmness  in  the  truth  and  honor  of  my  wife. 
My  lady,  you  have  made  a  brilliant  vindication  of  yourself; 
and  I,  the  king,  first  of  all  bow  before  you,  and  beg  that  you 
may  forgive  me  and  impose  some  penance." 

"  Leave  it  to  me,  queen,  to  impose  a  penance  on  this 
repentant  sinner ! "  cried  John  Heywood,  gayly.  "  Your 
majesty  is  much  too  magnanimous,  much  too  timid,  to  treat 
him  as  roughly  as  my  brother  King  Henry  deserves.  Leave 
it  to  me,  then,  to  punish  him  ;  for  only  the  fool  is  wise  enough 
to  punish  the  king  after  his  deserts." 

Catharine  nodded  to  him  with  a  grateful  smile.  She  com- 
prehended perfectly  John  Heywood's  delicacy  and  nice  tact ; 
she  apprehended  that  he  wanted  by  a  joke  to  relieve  her  from 
her  painful  situation,  and  put  an  end  to  the  king's  public 
acknowledgment,  which  at  the  same  time  must  turn  to  her 
bitter  reproach — bitter,  though  it  were  only  self-reproach. 

"Well,"  said  she,  smiling,  "  what  punishment,  then,  will 
you  impose  upon  the  king?" 

"  The  punishment  of  recognizing  the  fool  as  his  equal !  " 

"  Goil  i-  my  witness- that  I  do  so !  "  cried  the  king,  almost 
solemnlv.  "Fools  we  are,  one  and  all,  and  we  fall  short  of 
•1'iwn  which  we  have  before  men." 

'»  But  my  sentence  is  not  yet  complete,  brother  !  "  continued 
John  Heywood.  I  furthermore  give  sentence,  that  you  also 
forthwith  allow  mo  to  recite  my  poem  to  you,  and  that  you 
12 


266  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

open  your  ears  in  order  to  hear  what  John  Heywood,  the  wise, 
has  indited  ! " 

"  You  have,  then,  fulfilled  my  command,  and  composed  a 
new  interlude?"  cried  the  king,  vivaciously. 

"  No  interlude,  but  a  wholly  novel,  comical  affair — a  play 
full  of  lampoons  and  jokes,  at  which  your  eyes  are  to  over- 
flow, yet  not  with  weeping,  but  with  laughter.  To  the  right 
noble  Earl  of  Surrey  belongs  the  proud  honor  of  having  pre- 
sented to  our  happy  England  her  first  sonnets.  Well,  now,  I 
also  will  give  her  something  new.  I  present  her  the  first 
comedy ;  and  as  he  sings  the  beauty  of  his  Geraldine,  so  I  cel- 
ebrate the  fame  of  Gammer  G-urton's  sewing-needle — Gammer 
Gurton's  needle — so  my  piece  is  called  ;  and  you,  King  Henry, 
shall  listen  to  it  as  a  puaislimsnt  for  your  sins !  " 

"  I  will  do  so,"  cried  the  king,  cheerfully,  "  provided  you 
permit,  it  Kate  !  But  before  I  do  so,  I  make  also  one  more 
condition — a  condition  for  you,  queen  !  Kate,  you  have  dis- 
dained to  impose  a  penance  on  n?e,  but  grant  me  at  least  the 
pleasure  of  being  allowed  to  fulfil  some  wish  of  yours  !  Make 
me  a  request,  that  I  may  grant  it  you  !  " 

"  "Well,  then,  my  lord  and  king,"  said  Catharine  with  a 
charming  smile,  "  I  beg  you  to  think  no  more  of  the  incidents 
of  this  day,  and  to  forgive  those  whom  I  accused,  only  because 
their  accusation  was  my  vindication.  They  who  brought 
charges  against  rae  have  in  this  hour  felt  contrition  for  their 
own  fault.  Let  that  suffice,  king,  and  forgive  them,  as  I  do !  " 

"  You  are  a  noble  and  great  woman,  Kate !  "  cried  the 
king  ;  and,  as  his  glance  swept  over  toward  Gardiner  with  an 
almost  contemptuous  expression,  he  continued:  "Your  re- 
quest is  granted.  But  woe  to  them  who  shall  dare  accuse  you 
again  !  And  have  you  nothing  further  to  demand,  Kate?  " 

"  Nay,  one  thing  more,  my  lord  and  husband ! "  She 
leaned  nearer  to  the  king's  ear,  and  whispered :  "  They  have 
also  accused  your  noblest  and  most  faithful  servant ;  they  have 
accused  Cranmer.  Condemn  him  not,  king,  without  having 
heard  him  ;  and  if  I  may  beg  a  favor  of  you,  it  is  this  :  talk 


HENEY   TUT.    AND   HIS   COURT.  267 

with  Cranmer  yourself.  Tell  him  of  what  they  have  charged 
him,  and  hear  his  vindication." 

"  It  shall  be  so,  Kate,"  said  the  king,  "  and  you  shall  be 
present !  But  let  this  be  a  secret  between  us,  Kate,  and  we 
will  carry  it  out  in  perfect  silence.  And  now,  then,  John  Hey- 
wood,  let  us  hear  your  composition  ;  and  woe  to  you,  if  it  does 
not  accomplish  what  you  promised — if  it  does  not  make  us 
laugh !  For  you  well  know  that  you  are  then  inevitably  ex- 
posed to  the  rods  of  our  injured  ladies." 

"  They  shall  have  leave  to  whip  me  to  death,  if  I  do  not 
make  you  laugh  !  "  cried  John  Hey  wood,  gayly,  as  he  drew 
out  his  manuscript. 

Soon  the  hall  rang  again  with  loud  laughter ;  and  in  the 
universal  merriment  no  one  observed  that  Bishop  Gardiner 
and  Earl  Douglas  slipped  quietly  away. 

In  the  anteroom  without,  they  stopped  and  looked  at  each 
other  long  and  silently ;  their  countenances  expressed  the 
wrath  and  bitterness* which  filled  them;  and  they  understood 
this  mute  language  of  their  features. 

"  She  must  die  !  "  said  Gardiner  in  a  short  and  quick  tone. 
"  She  has  for  once  escaped  from  our  snares ;  we  will  tie  them 
all  the  tighter  next  time  !  " 

"  And  I  already  hold  in  my  hand  the  threads  out  of  which 
we  will  form  these  snares,"  said  Earl  Douglas.  "  We  have  to- 
day falsely  accused  her  of  a  love-affair.  When  we  do  it  ngain, 
we  shall  speak  the  truth.  Did  you  see  the  looks  that  Catha- 
rine exchanged  with  the  heretical  Earl  Sudley,  Thomas  Sey- 
mour?" 

"  I  saw  them,  earl !  " 

"  For  these  looks  she  will  die,  my  lord.  The  queen  loves 
Thomas  Seymour,  and  this  love  will  be  her  death." 

"  Amen  !  "  said  Bishop  Gardiner,  solemnly,  as  ho  raised 

es  devoutly  to  heaven.     "  Amen  !     The  queen  has  griev- 

ou.-ly  and  bitterly  injured   us  to-day ;  she  has   insulted  and 

abused  us  before  all  the  court.  We  will  requite  her  for  it  some 

day  !     The  torture-chamber,  which  she  has  depicted  in  such 


268  HENBY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COTTET. 

lively  colors,  may  yet  one  day  open  for  her,  too — not  that  she 
may  behold  another's  agonies,  but  that  she  may  suffer  agonies 
herself.  We  shall  one  day  avenge  ourselves  ! " 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

KEVENGE. 

Miss  HOLLAND,  the  beautiful  and  much-admired  mistress 
of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  was  alone  in  her  magnificently 
adorned  boudoir.  It  was  the  hour  when  ordinarily  the  duke 
was  wont  to  be  with  her  ;  for  this  reason  she  was  charmingly 
attired,  and  had  wrapped  herself  in  that  light  and  voluptuous 
negligee  which  the  duke  so  much  liked,  because  it  set  off"  to  so 
much  advantage  the  splendid  form  of  his  friend. 

But  to-day  the  expected  one  did  not  make  his  appearance  : 
in  his  stead  his  valet  had  just  come  and  brought  the  fair  miss 
a  note  from  his  master.  This  note  she  was  holding  in  her 
hand,  while  with  passionate  violence  she  now  walked  up  and 
down  her  boudoir.  A  glowing  crimson  blazed  upon  her 
cheeks,  and  her  large,  haughty  eyes  darted  wild  flashes  of 
wrath. 

She  was  disdained — she,  Lady  Holland,  was  forced  to  en- 
dure the  disgrace  of  being  dismissed  by  her  lover. 

There,  there,  in  that  letter  which  she  held  in  her  hand, 
and  which  burned  her  fingers  like  red-hot  iron — there  it  stood 
in  black  and  white,  that  he  would  see  her  no  more  ;  that  he 
renounced  her  love  ;  that  he  released  her. 

Her  whole  frame  shook  as  she  thought  of  this.  It  was  not 
the  anguish  of  a  loving  heart  which  made  her  tremble  ;  it  was 
the  wounded  pride  of  the  woman. 

He  had  abandoned  her.  Her  beauty,  her  youth  no  longer 
had  the  power  to  enchain  him — the  man  with  white  hairs  and 
withered  features. 

He  had  written  her  that  he  was  satiated  and  weary,  not 


HENRY  VIII.    AND   HIS    COURT.  269 

of  her,  but  only  of  love  in  general ;  that  his  heart  had  become 
old  and  withered  like  his  face  ;  and  that  there  was  still  in  his 
breast  no  more  room  for  love,  but  only  for  ambition. 

Was  not  that  a  revolting,  an  unheard-of  outrage — to 
abandon  the  finest  woman  in  England  for  the  sake  of  empty, 
cold,  stern  ambition? 

She  opened  the  letter  once  more.  Once  more  she  read 
that  place.  Then  grinding  her  teeth  with  tears  of  anger  in  her 
eyes :  "  He  shall  pay  me  for  this  !  I  will  take  vengeance  for 
this  insult !  " 

She  thrust  the  letter  into  her  bosom,  and  touched  the  sil- 
ver bell. 

"  Have  my  carriage  brought  round !  "  was  her  order  to 
the  servant  who  entered ;  and  he  withdrew  in  silence. 

"  I  will  avenge  myself!  "  muttered  she,  as  with  trembling 
hands  she  wrapped  herself,  in  her  large  Turkisli  shawl.  "  I 
will  avenge  myself;  and,  by  the  Eternal !  it  shall  be  a  bloody 
and  swift  vengeance  !  I  will  show  him  that  I,  too,  am  ambi- 
tious, and  that  my  pride  is  not  to  be  humbled.  He  says  he  will 
forget  me.  Oh,  I  will  compel  him  to  think  of  me,  even  though 
it  be  only  to  curse  me  I  " 

With  hasty  step  she  sped  through  the  glittering  apart- 
ments, which  the  liberality  of  her  lover  had  furnished  so  mag- 
nificently, and  descended  to  the  carriage  standing  ready  for  her. 

"  To  the  Duchess  of  Norfolk's  !  "  said  she  to  the  footman 
standing  at  the  door  of  the  carriage,  as  she  entered  it. 

The  servant  looked  at  her  in  astonishment  and  inquir- 
ingly. 

"  To  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  ;  is  it  not,  my  lady  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  to  the  duchess  !  "  cried  she  with  a  frown,  as 
she  leaned  back  on  the  cushion. 

Alter  a  short  time,  the  carriage  drew  up  before  the  palace 
of  the  duchess,  and  with  haughty  tread  and  commanding  air 
she  passed  through  the  porch. 

"  Announce  me  to  the  duchess  immediately,"  was  her  order 
to  the  lackey  who  was  hurrying  to  meet  her. 


270  HENRY  Vm.    AND   HIS   OOHET. 

"  Your  name,  my  lady?" 

"  Miss  ArabeUa  Holland." 

The  servant  stepped  back,  and  stared  at  her  in  surprise. 
"  Miss  Arabella  Holland  !  and  you  order  me  to  announce  you 
to  the  duchess  ?  " 

A  contemptuous  smile  played  a  moment  about  the  thin 
lips  of  the  beautiful  miss.  "  I  see  you  know  me,"  said 
she,  "  and  you  wonder  a  little  to  see  me  here.  Wonder  as 
much  as  you  please,  good  friend ;  only  conduct  me  immedi- 
ately to  the  duchess." 

"  I  doubt  whether  her  ladyship  receives  calls  to-day," 
stammered  the  servant,  hesitatingly. 

"Then go  and  ask ;  and,  that  I  may  learn  her  answer  as 
soon  as  possible,  I  will  accompany  you." 

With  a  commanding  air,  she  motioned  to  the  servant  to  go 
before  her ;  and  he  could  not  summon  up  courage  to  gainsay 
this  proud  beauty. 

In  silence  they  traversed  the  suite  of  stately  apartments, 
and  at  length  stood  before  a  door  hung  with  tapestry. 

"  I  must  beg  you  to  wait  here  a  moment,  my  lady,  so  that 
I  can  announce  you  to  the  duchess,  who  is  there  in  her  bou- 
doir." 

"  No,  indeed ;  I  will  assume  that  office  myself,"  said  Miss 
Holland,  as  with  strong  hand  she  pushed  back  the  servant  and 
opened  the  door. 

The  duchess  was  sitting  at  her  writing-table,  her  back 
turned  to  the  door  through  which  Arabella  had  entered.  She 
did  not  turn  round  ;  perhaps  she  had  not  heard  the  door  open. 
She  continued  quietly  writing. 

Miss  Arabella  Holland  with  stately  step  crossed  the  room, 
and  now  stood  close  to  the  chair  of  the  duchess. 

"  Duchess,  I  would  like  to  speak  with  you,"  said  she, 
coolly  and  calmly. 

The  duchess  uttered  a  cry  and  looked  up.  "  Miss  Holland !  " 
cried  she  amazed,  and  hastily  rising.  "  Miss  Holland  !  you 
here  with  me,  in  my  house !  What  do  you  want  here  ?  How 
dare  you  cross  my  threshold  ?  " 


HENEY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COffET.  271 

f~\  -.  "  I  see  you  still  hate  me,  my  lady,"  said  Arabella  smiling. 
"  You  have  not  yet  forgiven  me  that  the  duke,  your  husband, 
found  more  delight  in  my  young,  handsome  face,  than  in 
yours,  now  growing  old — that  my  sprightly,  wanton  disposition 
pleased  him  better  than  your  cold,  stately  air." 

The  duchess  turned  pale  with  rage,  and  her  eyes  darted 
lightning.  "  Silence,  you  shameless  creature !  silence,  or  I 
will  call  my  servants  to  rid  me  of  you  !  " 

"  You  will  not  call  them  ;  for  I  have  come  to  be  recon- 
ciled with  you,  and  to  offer  you  peace." 

"  Peace  with  you ! "  sneered  the  duchess — "  peace  with  that 
shameless  woman  who  stole  from  me  my  husband,  the  father 
of  my  children? — who  loaded  me  with  the  disgrace  of  standing 
before  the  whole  world,  as  a  repudiated  and  despised  wife, 
and  of  suffering  myself  to  be  compared  with  you,  that  the 
world  might  decide  which  of  us  two  was  worthier  of  his  love  ? 
Peace  with  you,  Miss  Holland? — with  the  impudent  strumpet 
who  squanders  my  husband's  means  in  lavish  luxury,  and, 
with  scoffing  boldness,  robs  my  children  of  their  lawful  prop- 
erty?" 

"  It  is  true,  the  duke  is  very  generous,"  said  Miss  Holland, 
composedly.  "  He  loaded  me  with  diamonds  and  gold." 

"  And  meanwhile  I  was  doomed  almost  to  suffer  want,"  said 
the  duchess,  grinding  her  teeth. 

"  Want  of  love,  it  may  be,  my  lady,  but  not  want  of  money  ; 
for  you  are  very  magnificently  fitted  up  ;  and  every  one  knows 
that  the  Duchess  of  Norfork  is  rich  enough  to  be  able  to  spare 
the  trifles  that  her  husband  laid  at  my  feet.  By  Heaven  !  my 
lady,  I  would  not  have  deemed  it -worth  the  trouble  to  stoop 
for  them,  if  I  had  not  seen  among  these  trifles  his  heart.  The 
heart  of  a  man  is  well  worth  a  woman's  stooping  for  !  You 
iinii  neglected  that,  my  lady,  and  therefore  you  lost  your  hus- 
band's heart.  I  picked  it  up.  That  is  all.  Why  will  you 
in:iku  a  crime  of  that?" 

"  That  is  enough  !  "  cried  the  duchess.  "  It  does  not  be- 
come me  to  dispute  with  you  ;  I  desire  only  to  know  what  gave 
you  the  courage  to  come  to  me  ?  " 


272  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTJBT. 

"My  lady,  do  you  hate  me  only?  Or  do  you  also  Late 
the  duke  your  husband  ?  " 

"  She  asks  me  whether  I  hate  him  ! "  cried  the  duchess, 
with  a  wild,  scornful  laugh.  "  Yes,  Miss  Holland,  yes  !  I 
hate  him  as  ardently  as  I  despise  you.  I  hate  him  so  much 
that  I  would  give  my  whole  estate — ay,  years  of  my  life — if 
I  could  punish  him  for  the  disgrace  he  has  put  upon  me." 

"  Then,  my  lady,  we  shall  soon  understand  each  other  ;  for 
I  too  hate  him,"  said  Miss  Holland,  quietly  seating  herself  on 
the  velvet  divan,  and  smiling  as  she  observed  the  speechless  * 
astonishment  of  the  duchess. 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  I  hate  him  ;  and  without  doubt  still  more 
ardently,  still  more  intensely  than  you  yourself;  for  I  am 
young  and  fiery ;  you  are  old,  and  have  always  managed  to 
preserve  a  cool  heart." 

The  duchess  was  convulsed  with  rage ;  but  silently,  and 
with  an  effort,  she  gulped  down  the  drop  of  wormwood  which 
her  wicked  rival  mingled  in  the  cup  of  joy  which  she  presented 
to  her. 

"  You  do  hate  him,  Miss  Holland?  "  asked  she,  joyfully. 

"  I  hate  him,  and  I  have  come  to  league  myself  with  you 
against  him.  He  is  a  traitor,  a  perfidious  wretch,  a  perjurer. 
I  will  take  vengeance  for  my  disgrace  !  " 

"  Ah,  has  he  then  deserted  you  also?" 

"  He  has  deserted  me  also." 

"  "Well,  then,  God  be  praised  !  "  cried  the  duchess,  and  her 
face  beamed  with  joy.  "  God  is  great  and  just ;  and  He  has 
punished  you  with  the  same  weapons  with  which  you  sinned ! 
For  your  sake,  he  deserted  me ;  and  for  the  sake  of  another 
Avoman,  he  forsakes  you." 

"  Not  so,  my  lady ! "  said  Miss  Holland,  proudly.  t;  A 
woman  like  me  is  not  forsaken  on  account  of  a  woman  ;  and 
he  who  loves  me  will  love  no  other  after  me.  There,  read  his 
letter ! " 

She  handed  the  duchess  her  husband's  letter. 

"  And  what  do  you  want  to  do  now  ?  "  asked  the  duchess, 
after  she  had  read  it. 


HENRY   Vm.   AND   HIS    COTJKT.  273 

"  I  will  have  revenge,  my  lady  !  He  says  he  no  longer 
has  a  heart  to  love ;  well,  now,  we  will  so  manage,  that  he 
may  no  longer  have  a  head  to  think.  Will  you  be  my  ally, 
my  lady  ?  " 

"  I  will." 

"And  I  also  will  be,"  said  the  Duchess  of  Richmond,  who 
just  then  opened  the  door  and  came  out  of  the  adjoining  room. 

Not  a  word  of  this  entire  conversation  had  escaped  her, 
and  she  very  well  understood  that  the  question  was  not  about 
some  petty  vengeance,  but  her  father's  head.  She  knew  that 
Miss  Holland  was  not  a  woman  that,  when  irritated,  pricked 
with  a  pin ;  but  one  that  grasped  the  dagger  to  strike  her 
enemy  a  mortal  blow. 

"  Yes,  I  too  will  be  your  ally,"  cried  the  Duchess  of  Rich- 
mond ;  "  wo  have  all  three  been  outraged  by  the  same  man. 
Let,  then,  our  revenge  be  a  common  one.  •  The  father  has  in- 
sulted you  ;  the  son,  me.  Well,  then,  I  will  help  you  to  strike 
the  father,  if  you  in  return  will  assist  me  to  destroy  the  son." 

"  I  will  assist  you,"  said  Arabella,  smiling ;  "  for  I  also 
hate  the  haughty  Earl  of  Surrey,  who  prides  himself  on  his 
virtue,  as  if  it  were  a  golden  fleece  which  God  himself  had 
stuck  on  his  breast.  I  hate  him  ;  for  he  never  meets  me  but 
with  proud  disregard  ;  and  he  alone  is  to  blame  for  his  father's 
faithlessness." 

"  I  was  present  when  with  tears  he  besought  the  duke,  our 
father,  to  free  himself  from  your  fetters,  and  give  up  this 
shameful  and  disgraceful  connection  with  you,"  said  the  young 
duchess. 

Arabella  answered  nothing.  But  she  pressed  her  hands 
firmly  together,  and  a  slight  pallor  overspread  her  cheeks. 

"And  why  are  you  angry  with  your  brother?"  asked  the 
old  duchess,  thoughtfully. 

••  Why  am  I  nugry  with  him,  do  yon  ask,  my  mother?  I 
am  not  aniiry  witli  him  ;  l»uf  I  execrate  him,  and  I  have  sworn 
t«>  i.i\.-clf  never  to  rest  till  I  havi-  avenged  myself.  My  hap- 
piness, my  heart,  ami  my  future,  lay  in  his  hands  ;  and  he  has 


274  HENRY  Vin.   AND   HIS   COURT. 

remorselessly  trodden  under  his  haughty  feet  these — his  sister's 
precious  treasures.  It  lay  with  him  to  make  me  the  wife  of 
the  man  I  love  ;  and  he  has  not  done  it,  though  I  lay  at  his 
feet  weeping  and  wringing  my  hands." 

"But  it  was  a  great  sacrifice  that  you  demanded,"  said 
her  mother.  "  He  had  to  give  his  hand  to  a  woman  he  did 
not  love,  so  that  you  might  be  Thomas  Seymour's  wife." 

"  Mother,  you  defend  him ;  and  yet  he  it  is  that  blames 
you  daily ;  and  but  yesterday  it  seemed  to  him  perfectly  right 
and  natural  that  the  duke  had  forsaken  you,  our  mother." 

"Did  he  do  that?"  inquired  the  duchess,  vehemently. 
"  Well,  now,  as  he  has  forgotten  that  I  am  his  mother,  so  will 
I  forget  that  he  is  my  son.  I  am  your  ally  !  Revenge  for 
our  injured  hearts  !  Vengeance  on  father  and  son  ! " 

She  held  out  both  hands,  and  the  two  young  women  laid 
their  hands  in  hers. 

"  Vengeance  on  father  and  son  ! "  repeated  they  both  ;  and 
their  eyes  flashed,  and  crimson  now  mantled  their  cheeks. 

"  I  am  tired  of  living  like  a  hermit  in  my  palace,  and  of 
being  banished  from  court  by  the  fear  that  I  may  encounter 
my  husband  there." 

"  You  shall  encounter  him  there  no  more,"  said  her  daugh- 
ter, laconically. 

"  They  shall  not  laugh  and  jeer  at  me,"  cried  Arabella. 
"  And  when  they  learn  that  he  has  forsaken  me,  they  shall 
also  know  how  I  have  avenged  myself  for  it." 

"  Thomas  Seymour  can  never  become  my  husband  so  long 
as  Henry  Howard  lives  ;  for  he  has  mortally  offended  him,  as 
Henry  has  rejected  the  hand  of  his  sister.  Perhaps  I  may  be- 
come his  wife,  if  Henry  Howard  is  no  more,"  said  the  young 
duchess.  "  So  let  us  consider.  How  shall  we  begin,  so  as  to 
strike  them  surely  and  certainly  ?  " 

"  When  three  women  are  agreed,  they  may  well  be  certain 
of  their  success,"  said  Arabella,  shrugging  her  shoulders. 
"  We  live — God  be  praised  for  it — under  a  noble  and  high- 
minded  king,  who  beholds  the  blood  of  his  subjects  with  as 


HENEY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COUET.  275 

much  pleasure  as  he  does  the  crimson  of  his  royal  mantle,  and 
who  has  never  yet  shrunk  back  when  a  death-warrant  was  to 
be  signed." 

"  But  this  time  he  will  shrink  back,"  said  the  old  duchess. 
"  He  will  not  dare  to  rob  the  noblest  and  most  powerful  family 
of  his  kingdom  of  its  head."  . 

"  That  very  risk  will  stimulate  him,"  said  the  Duchess  of 
Richmond,  laughing ;  "  and  the  more  difficult  it  is  to  bring 
down  these  heads,  so  much  the  more  impatiently  will  he  hanker 
after  it.  The  king  hates  them  both  ;  and  he  will  thank  us,  if 
we  change  his  hatred  into  retributive  justice." 

"  Then  let  us  accuse  both  of  high-treason  ! "  cried  Arabella. 
"  The  duke  is  a  traitor ;  for  I  will  and  can  swear  that  he  has 
often  enough  called  the  king  a  bloodthirsty  tiger,  a  relentless 
tyrant,  a  man  without  truth  and  without  faith,  although  he 
coquettishly  pretends  to  be  the  fountain  and  rock  of  all  faith." 

"  If  he  has  said  that,  and  you  heard  him,  you  are  in  duty 
bound  to  communicate  it  to  the  king,  if  you  do  not  want  to  be 
a  traitoress  yourself,"  exclaimed  the  young  duchess,  solemnly. 

"  And  have  you  not  noticed,  that  the  duke  has  for  some 
time  borne  the  same  coat-of-arms  as  the  king?"  asked  the 
Duchess  of  Norfolk.  "  It  is  not  enough  for  his  haughty  and 
ambitious  spirit  to  be  the  first  servant  of  this  land ;  he  strives 
to  be  lord  and  king  .of  it." 

"  Tell  that  to  the  king,  and  by  to-morrow  the  head  of  the 
traitor  falls.  For  the  king  is  as  jealous  of  his  kingdom  as 
ever  a  woman  was  of  her  lover.  Tell  him  that  the  duke  bears 
his  coat-of-arms,  and  his  destruction  is  certain." 

"  I  will  tell  him  so,  daughter." 

"  We  are  sure  of  the  father,  but  what  have  we  for  the 
son?" 

"  A  sure  and  infallible  means,  that  will  as  certainly  dis- 
patch him  into  eternity  as  the  hunter's  tiny  bullet  slays  the 
proudest  stag.  Henry  loves  the  queen ;  and  I  will  furnish  the 
king  proof  of  that,"  said  the  young  duchess. 

"  Then  let  us  go  to  the  king ! "  cried  Arabella,  impetu- 
ously. 


276  HENEY   Vm.    AND    HIS   COTJET. 

"  No,  indeed  !  That  would  make  a  sensation,  and  might 
easily  frustrate  our  whole  plan,"  said  the  Duchess  of  Rich- 
mond. "  Let  us  first  talk  with  Earl  Douglas,  and  hear  his 
advice.  Come  ;  every  minute  is  precious  !  We  owe  it  to  our 
womanly  honor  to  avenge  ourselves.  "We  cannot  and  will 
not  leave  unpunished  those  who  have  despised  our  love,  wound- 
ed our  honor,  and  trodden  under  foot  the  holiest  ties  of  nature  1 " 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE     ACKNOWLEDGMENT. 

THE  Princess  Elizabeth  was  sitting  in  her  room,  melancholy 
and  absorbed  in  thought.  Her  eyes  were  red  with  weeping ; 
and  she  pressed  her  hand  on  her  heart,  as  if  she  would  repress 
its  cry  of  anguish. 

With  a  disconsolate,  perplexed  look  she  gazed  around  her 
chamber,  and  its  solitude  was  doubly  painful  to  her  to-day,  for 
it  testified  to  her  forsaken  condition,  to  the  disgrace  that  still 
rested  on  her.  For  were  it  not  so,  to-day  would  have  been  to 
the  whole  court  a  day  of  rejoicing,  of  congratulations. 

To-day  was  Elizabeth's  birthday;  fourteen  years  ago  to- 
day, Anne  Boleyn's  daughter  had  seen  the  light  of  this  world. 

"  Anne  Boleyn's  daughter !  "  That  was  the  secret  of  her 
seclusion.  That  was  why  none  of  the  ladies  and  lords  of  the 
court  had  remembered  her  birthday ;  for  that  would  have 
been  at  the  same  time  a  remembrance  of  Anne  Boleyn,  of 
Elizabeth's  beautiful  and  unfortunate  mother,  who  had  been 
made  to  atone  for  her  grandeur  and  prosperity  by  her  death. 

Moreover,  the  king  had  called  his  daughter  Elizabeth  a 
bastard,  and  solemnly  declared  her  unworthy,  of  succeeding  to 
the  throne. 

Her  birthday,  therefore,  was  to  Elizabeth  only  a  day  of 
humiliation  and  pain.  Reclining  on  her  divan,  she  thought  of 


HENRY  Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  277 

her  despised  and  joyless  past,  of  her  desolate  and  inglorious 
future. 

She  was  a  princess,  and  yet  possessed  not  the  rights  of  her 
birth  ;  she  was  a  young  maiden,  and  yet  doomed,  in  sad  resig- 
nation, to  renounce  all  the  delights  and  enjoyments  of  youth,  and 
to  condemn  her  passionate  and  ardent  heart  to  the  eternal  sleep 
of  death.  For  when  the  Infante  of  Spain  sued  for  her  hand, 
Henry  the  Eighth  had  declared  that  the  bastard  Elizabeth  was 
unworthy  of  a  princely  husband.  But  in  order  to  intimidate 
other  suitors  also,  he  had  loudly  and  openly  declared  that  no 
subject  should  dare  be  so  presumptuous  as  to  offer  his  hand  to 
one  of  his  royal  daughters,  and  he  who  dared  to  solicit  them 
in  marriage  should  be  punished  as  a  traitor. 

So  Elizabeth  was  condemned  to  remain  unmarried ;  and 
nevertheless  she  loved ;  nevertheless  she  harbored  only  this 
one  wish,  to  be  the  wife  of  her  beloved,  and  to  be  able  to  ex- 
change the  proud  title  of  princess  for  the  name  of  Countess 
Seymour. 

Since  she  loved  him,  a  new  world,  a  new  sun  had  arisen  on 
her ;  and  before  the  sweet  and  enchanting  whispers  of  her  love, 
even  the  proud  and  alluring  voices  of  her  ambition  had  to  bo 
silent.  She  no  longer  thought  of  it,  that  she  would  never  be 
a  queen  ;  she  was  only  troubled  that  she  could  not  bo  Seymour's 
wife. 

She  no  longer  wanted  to  rule,  but  she  wanted  to  be  happy. 
But  her  happiness  reposed  on  him  alone — on  Thomas  Sey- 
mour. 

Such  were  her  thoughts,  as  she  was  in  her  chamber  on  the 
morning  of  her  birthday,  alone  and  lonely  ;  and  her  eyes  red- 
dened by  tears,  her  painfully  convulsed  lips,  betrayed  how 
much  she  had  wept  to-day  ;  how  much  this  young  girl  of  four- 
teen years  had  already  suffered. 

But  she  would  think  no  more  about  it;  she  would  not 
allow  the  lurking,  everywhere-prying,  malicioust  and  wicki-d 
courtitr.s  tho  triumph  of  seeing  the  traces  of  her  tears,  and  rc- 
joiciug  at  her  pains  and  her  humiliation.  She  was  a  proud 


278  HENKY   V1H.    AND  HIS   COUBT, 

and  resolute  soul ;  she  would  rather  have  died  than  to  have 
accepted  'the  sympathy  and  pity  of  the  courtiers. 

"  I  will  work,"  said  she.  "  Work  is  the  best  balm  for  all 
pains." 

And  she  took  up  the  elaborate  silk  embroidery  which  she 
had  begun  for  her  poor,  unfortunate  friend,  Anne  of  Cleves, 
Henry's  divorced  wife.  But  the  work  occupied  only  her  fin- 
gers, not  her  thoughts. 

She  threw  it  aside  and  seized  her  books.  She  took  Petrarch's 
Sonnets  ;  and  his  love  plaints  and  griefs  enchained  and  stirred 
her  own  love-sick  heart. 

With  streaming  tears,  and  yet  smiling  and  full  of  sweet 
melancholy,  Elizabeth  read  these  noble  and  tender  poems.  It 
appeared  to  her  as  if  Petrarch  had  only  said  what  she  herself 
so  warmly  felt.  There  were  her  thoughts,  her  griefs.  He  had 
said  them  in  his  language  ;  she  must  now  repeat  them  in  her 
own.  She  seated  herself,  and  with  hands  trembling  with  en- 
thusiasm, fluttering  breath,  perfectly  excited  and  glowing,  in 
glad  haste  she  began  a  translation  of  Petrarch's  first  son- 
net.* 

A  loud  knock  interrupted  her  ;  and  in  the  hastily  opened 
door  now  appeared  the  lovely  form  of  the  queen. 

"  The  queen  ! "  exclaimed  Elizabeth  with  delight.  "  Have 
you  come  to  me  at  such  an  early  morning  hour  ?  " 

"  And  should  I  wait  till  evening  to  wish  my  Elizabeth  hap- 
piness on  her  festival  ?  Should  I  first  let  the  sun  go  down  on 
this  day,  which  gave  to  England  so  noble  and  so  fair  a 
princess?"  asked  Catharine.  "Or  you  thought,  perhaps,  I 
did  not  know  that  this  was  your  birthday,  and  that  to-day  my 
Elizabeth  advances  from  the  years  of  childhood,  as  a  proud 
maiden  full  of  hope  ?  " 

*  Elizabeth,  who  even  as  a  girl  of  twelve  years  old  spoke  four  languages,  was  very 
fond  of  composing  vefses,  and  of  translating  the  poems  of  foreign  authors.  But  she  kept 
her  skill  in  this  respect  very  secret,  and  was  always  very  angry  if  any  one  by  chance  saw- 
one  of  her  poems.  After  her  death  there  were  found  among  her  papers  many  transla- 
tions, especially  of  Petrarch's  Sonnets,  which  were  the  work  of  her  earliest  youth,— 
Lett,  vol.  i.,  page  150. 


HENJBY   Vm.    AND   HIS   OOUET.  279 

" Full  of  hope?"  said  Elizabeth,  sadly.  "  Anne  Boleyn's 
daughter  has  uo  hopes  ;  and  when  you  speak  of  my  birthday, 
you  remind  me  at  the  same  time  of  my  despised  birth  !" 

"It  shall  be  despised  no  longer ! "  cried  Catharine,  and,  as 
she  put  her  arm  tenderly  around  Elizabeth's  neck,  she  handed 
her  a  roll  of  parchment. 

"  Take  that,  Elizabeth  ;  and  may  this  paper  be  to  you  the 
promise  of  a  joyful  and  brilliant  future  !  At  my  request,  the 
king  has  made  this  law,  and  he  therefore  granted  me  the  pleas- 
ure of  bringing  it  to  you." 

Elizabeth  opened  the  parchment  and  read,  and  a  radiant 
expression  overspread  her  countenance. 

"  Acknowledged !  I  am  acknowledged ! "  cried  she.  "  The 
disgrace  of  my  birth  is  taken  away  !  Elizabeth  is  no  more  a 
bastard — she  is  a  royal  princess  !  " 

"And  she  may  some  day  be  a  queen!."  said  Catharine, 
smiling. 

"  Oh,"  cried  Elizabeth,  "  it  is  not  that  which  stirs  me  with 
such  joy.  But  the  disgrace  of  my  birth  is  taken  away  ;  and  I 
may  freely  hold  up  my  head  and  name  my  mother's  name ! 
Now  thou  mayst  sleep  calmly  in  thy  grave,  for  it  is  no  longer 
dishonored !  Anne  Boleyn  was  no  strumpet ;  she  was  King 
Henry's  lawful  wife,  and  Elizabeth  is  the  king's  legitimate 
daughter  !  I  thank  Thee,  my  God— I  thank  Thee  !  " 

And  the  young,  passionate  girl  threw  herself  on  her  knees, 
and  raised  her  hands  and  her  eyes  to  heaven. 

"  Spirit  of  my  glorified  mother,"  said  she,  solemnly,  "  I  call 
thee !  Come  to  me  I  Overshadow  me  with  thy  smile,  and 
bless  me  with  thy  breath  !  Queen  Anne  of  England,  thy  daugh- 
ter is  no  longer  a  bastard,  and  no  one  dares  venture  more  to 
insult  her.  Thou  wert  with  me  when  I  wept  and  suffered,  my 
mother ;  and  often  in  my  disgrace  and  humiliation,  it  was  as 
if  I  heard  thy  voice,  which  whispered  comfort  to  mo ;  as  if  I 
saw  thy  heavenly  eyes,  which  poured  peace  and  love  into  my 
breast !  Oh,  abide  with  me  now  also,  my  mother — now,  Avhea 
my  <!'  taken  away,  abide  \\ith  mo  iu  my  prosperity  ; 


280  HENRY   Vin.    AJSTD   HIS   COURT. 

and  guard  my  heart,  that  it  may  be  kept  pure  from  aixogance 
and  pride,  and  remain  humble  in  its  joy  !  Anne  Boleyn,  they 
laid  thy  beautiful,  innocent  head  upon  the  block  ;  but  this  parch- 
ment sets  upon  it  again  the  royal  crown  ;  and  woe,  woe  to  those 
who  will  now  still  dare  insult  thy  memory  !  " 

She  sprang  from  her  knees  and  rushed  to  the  wall  opposite, 
on  which  was  a  large  oil  painting,  which  represented  Elizabeth 
herself  as  a  child  playing  with  a  dog. 

"Oh,  mother,  mother!"  said  she,  "this  picture  was  the 
last  earthly  thing  on  which  thy  looks  rested ;  and  to  these 
painted  lips  of  thy  child  thou  gavest  thy'  last  kiss,  which  thy 
cruel  hangman  would  not  allow  to  thy  living  child.  Oh,  let  me 
sip  up  this  last  kiss  from  that  spot ;  let  me  touch  with  my  mouth 
the  spot  that  thy  lips  have  consecrated  !  " 

She  bent  down  and  kissed  the  picture. 

"  And  now  come  forth  out  of  thy  grave,  my  mother,"  said 
she,  solemnly.  "  I  have  been  obliged  so  long  to  hide,  so  long 
to  veil  thee  !  Now  thou  belongest  to  the  world  and  to  the  light ! 
The  king  has  acknowledged  me  as  his  lawful  daughter ;  he 
cannot  refuse  me  to  have  a  likeness  of  my  mother  in  my 
room." 

As  she  thus  spoke,  she  pressed  on  a  spring  set  in  the  broad 
gilt  frame  of  the  picture  ;  and  suddenly  the  painting  was  'seen 
to  move  and  slowly  open  like  a  door,  so  as  to  render  visible 
another  picture  concealed  beneath  it,  which  represented  the 
unfortunate  Anne  Boleyn  in  bridal  attire,  in  the  full  splendor 
of  her  beauty,  as  Holbein  had  painted  her,  at  the  desire  of  her 
husband  the  king. 

"How  beautiful  and  angelic  that  countenance  is!"  said 
Catharine,  stepping  nearer.  "  How  innocent  and  pure  those 
features !  Poor  queen !  Yet  thine  enemies  succeeded  in 
casting  suspicion  on  thee  and  bringing  thee  to  the  scaffold. 
Oh,  when  I  behold  thee,  I  shudder ;  and  my  own  future  rises 
up  before  me  like  a  threatening  spectre !  Who  can  believe 
herself  safe  and  secure,  when  Anne  Boleyn  was  not  secure ; 
when  even  she  had  to  die  a  dishonorable  death?  Ah,  do  but 


HENEY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  281 

believe  me,  Elizabeth,  it  is  a  melancholy  lot  to  be  Queen  of 
England  ;  and  often  indeed  have  I  asked  the  morning  whether 
I,  as  still  Queen  of  England,  shall  greet  the  evening.  But  no — 
•we  will  not  talk  of  myself  in  this  hour,  but  only  of  you,  Eliza- 
beth— of  your  future  and  of  your  fortune.  May  this  document 
be  acceptable  to  you,  and  realize  all  the  wishes  that  slumber  in 
your  bosom  I" 

"  One  great  wish  of  mine  it  has  fulfilled  already,"  said 
Elizabeth,  still  occupied  with  the  picture.  "  It  allows  me  to 
show  my  mother's  likeness  unveiled !  That  I  could  one  day 
do  so  was  her  last  prayer  and  last  wish,  which  she  intrusted 
to  John  Heywood  for  me.  To  him  she  committed  this  pic- 
ture. He  alone  knew  the  secret  of  it,  and  ho  has  faithfully 
preserved  it." 

*'  Oh,  John  Hey  wood  i3  a  trusty  and  true  friend,"  said 
Catharine,  heartily  ;  "  and  it  was  he  who  assisted  me  in  inclin- 
ing the  king  to  our  plan  and  in  persuading  him  to  acknowl- 
edge you." 

With  an  unutterable  expression  Elizabeth  presented  both 
hands  to  her,  "  I  thank  you  for  my  honor,  and  the  honor  of 
my  mother,"  said  she ;  "I  will  love  you  for  it  as  a  daughter , 
and  never  shall  your  enemies  find  with  me  an  open  ear  and  a 
willing  heart.  Let  us  two  conclude  with  each  other  a  league 
offensive  and  defensive  !  Let  us  keep  true  to  each  other  ;  and 
the  enemies  of  the  one  shall  be  the  enemies  of  the  other  also. 
And  where  we  see  danger  we  will  combat  it  in  common  ;  and 
we  will  watch' over  each  other  with  a  true  sisterly  eye,  and 
warn  one  another  whenever  a  chance  flash  brings  to  light  an 
enemy  who  is  stealing  along  in  the  darkness,  and  wants  with 
his  dagger  to  assassinate  us  from  behind." 

"  So  be  it ! "  said  Catharine,  solemnly.  "  We  will  remain 
inseparable,  and  true  to  one  another,  and  love  each  other  as 
sisters  !  " 

And  as  she  imprinted  a  warm  kiss  on  Elizabeth's  lips,  she 
continued  :  "  But  now,  princess,  direct  your  looks  once  more 
to  that  document,  of  which  at  first  you  read  only  the  begin- 


282  HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUE^. 

ning.  Do  but  believe  me,  it  is  important  enough  for  you  to 
read  it  quite  to  the  end ;  for  it  contains  various  arrangements 
for  your  future,  and  settles  on  you  a  suite  and  a  yearly  allow- 
ance, as  is  suitable  for  a  royal  princess." 

"Oh,  what  care  I  for  these  things?"  cried  Elizabeth, 
merrily.  "  That  is  my  major-domo's  concern,  and  he  may 
attend  to  it." 

"But  there  is  yet  another  paragraph  that  will  interest  you 
more,"  said  Catharine,  with  a  slight  smile ;  "  for  it  is  a  full 
and  complete  reparation  to  my  proud  and  ambitious  Elizabeth. 
You  recollect  the  answer  which  your  father  gave  to  the  King 
of  France  when  he  solicited  your  hand  for  the  dauphin  ?  " 

"  Do  I  recollect  it ! "  cried  Elizabeth,  her  features  quickly 
becoming  gloomy.  "  King  Henry  said :  '  Anne  Boleyn's 
daughter  is  not  worthy  to  accept  the  hand  of  a  royal  prince.' " 

"  Well,  then,  Elizabeth,  that  the  reparation  made  to  you 
may  be  complete,  the  king,  while  he  grants  you  your  lawful 
title  and  honor,  has  decreed  that  you  are  permitted  to  marry 
only  a  husband  of  equal  birth ;  to  give  your  hand  only  to  a 
royal  prince,  if  you  would  preserve  your  right  of  succeeding 
to  the  throne.  Oh,  certainly,  there  could  be  no  more  complete 
recantation  of  the  affront  once  put  upon  you.  And  that  he 
consented  to  do  this,  you  owe  to  the  eloquent  intercession  of  a 
true  and  trusty  friend ;  you  have  John  Heywood  to  thank 
for  it." 

"  John  Heywood ! "  cried  Elizabeth,  in  a  bitter  tone. 
"Oh,  I  thank  you,  queen,  that  it  was  not  you  who  deter- 
mined my  father  to  this  decision.  John  Heywood  did  it,  and 
you  call  him  my  friend  ?  You  say  that  he  is  a  true  and  de- 
voted servant  to  us  both?-  Beware  of  his  fidelity,  queen,  and 
build  not  on  his  devotedness  ;  for  I  tell  you  his  soul  is  full  of 
falsehood  ;  and  while  he  appears  to  bow  before  you  in  humble- 
ness, his  eyes  are  only  searching  for  the  place  on  your  heel 
where  he  can  strike  you  most  surely  and  most  mortally.  Oh, 
he  is  a  serpent,  a  venomous  serpent ;  and  he  has  just  wounded 
me  mortally  and  incurably.  But  no,"  continued  she,  energeti- 


HENRY   Vm.    AOT)   HIS   COUBT.  283 


cally,  "  I  will  not  submit  to  this  fraud  ;  I  will  not  be  the 
slave  of  this  injurious  law  !  I  will  be  free  to  love  and  to  hate 
as  my  heart  demands  ;  I  will  not  be  shackled,  nor  be  com- 
pelled to  renounce  this  man,  whom  I  perhaps  love,  and  to 
marry  that  one,  whom  I  perhaps  abhor." 

With  an  expression  of  firm,  energetic  resolve,  she  took  the 
roll  of  parchment  and  handed  it  back  to  Catharine. 

"  Queen,  take  this  parchment  back  again  ;  return  it  to  my 
father,  and  tell  him  that  I  thank  him  for  his  provident  good- 
ness, but  will  decline  the  brilliant  lot  which  this  act  offers  me. 
I  love  freedom  so  much,  that  even  a  royal  crown  cannot  allure 
me.  when  I  am  to  receive  it  with  my  hands  bound  and  my 
heart  not  free." 

"  Poor  child  !  "  sighed  Catharine,  "  you  knoAv  not,  then, 
that  the  royal  crown  alwajis  binds  us  in  fetters  and  compresses 
our  heart  in  iron  clamps  ?  Ah,  you  want  to  be  free,  and  yet  a 
queen  !  Oh,  believe  me,  Elizabeth,  none  are  less  free  than 
sovereigns  !  No  one  has  less  the  right  and  the  power  to  live 
according  to  the  dictates  of  his  heart  than  a  prince." 

"  Then,"  exclaimed  Elizabeth,  with  flashing  eyes,  "  then 
I  renounce  the  melancholy  fortune  of  being,  perchance,  one 
.day  queen.  Then  I  do  not  subscribe  to  this  law,  which  wants 
to  guide  my  heart  and  limit  my  will.  What  !  shall  the  daugh- 
ter of  King  Henry  of  England  allow  her  ways  to  be  traced  out 
by  a  miserable  strip  of  parchment?  and  shall  a  sheet  of  paper 
be  able  to  intrude  itself  between  mo  and  my  heart?  I  am  a 
royal  princess  ;  and  why  will  they  compel  me  to  give  my  hand 
only  to  a  king's  son  ?  Ay,  you  are  right  ;  it  is  not  my  father 
that  has  made  this  law,  for  my  father's  proud  soul  has  never 
been  willing  to  submit  to  any  such  constraint  of  miserable 
etiquette.  He  has  loved  where  he  pleased  ;  and  no  Parliament 
—  no  law  has  been  able  to  hinder  him  in  this  respect.  I  will 
be  my  father's  own  daughter.  I  will  not  submit  to  this  law  !  " 

"  Poor  child  !  "  said  Catharine,  "  nevertheless  you  will  bo 
obliged  to  learn  well  how  to  submit  ;  for  one  is  not  a  princess 
without  paying  for  it.  No  one  asks  whether  our  heart  bleeds. 


284:  HENET   VHI.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

They  throw  a  purple  robe  over  it,  and  though  it  be  reddened 
with  our  heart's  blood,  who  then  sees  and  suspects  it?  You 
are  yet  so  young,  Elizabeth ;  you  yet  hope  so  much  !  " 

"  I  hope  so  much,  because  I  have  already  suffered  so  much 
— my  eyes  have  been  already  made  to  shed  so  many  tears.  I 
have  already  in  my  childhood  had  to  take  beforehand  my  share 
of  the  pain  and  sorrow  of  life  ;  now  I  will  demand  my  share 
of  life's  pleasure  and  enjoyment  also." 

"  And  who  tells  you  that  you  shall  not  have  it?  This  love 
forces  on  you  no  particular  husband ;  it  but  gives  you  the 
proud  right,  once  disputed,  of  seeking  your  husband  among 
the  princes  of  royal  blood." 

"  Oh,"  cried  Elizabeth,  with  flashing  eyes,  "  if  I  should 
ever  really  be  a  queen,  I  should  be  prouder  to  choose  a  hus- 
band whom  I  might  make  a  king,  than  such  a  one  as  would 
make  me  a  queen.  *  Oh,  say  yourself,  Catharine,  must  it  not 
be  a  high  and  noble  pleasure  to  confer  glory  and  greatness  on 
one  we  love,  to  raise  him  in  the  omnipotence  of  our  love  high 
above  all  other  men,  and  to  lay  our  own  greatness,  our  own 
glory,  humbly  at  his  feet,  that  he  may  be  adorned  therewith 
and  make  his  own  possession  what  is  ours  ?  " 

"  By  Heaven,  you  are  as  proud  and  ambitious  as  a  man  !  " 
said  Catharine,  smiling.  "  Your  father's  own  daughter  !  So 
thought  Henry  when  he  gave  his  hand  to  Anne  Boleyn ;  so 
thought  he  when  he  exalted  me  to  be  his  queen.  But  it  be- 
hooves him  thus  to  think  and  act,  for  he  is  a  man." 

"  He  thought  thus,  because  he  loved — not  because  he  was 
a  man." 

"  And  you,  too,  Elizabeth — do  you,  too,  think  thus  because 
you.  love?" 

"  Yes,  I  love  !  "  exclaimed  Elizabeth,  as  with  an  impulsive 
movement  she  threw  herself  into  Catharine's  arms,  and  hid 
her  blushing  face  in  the  queen's  bosom.  "  Yes,  I  love  !  I 
love  like  my  father — regardless  of  my  rank,  of  my  birth  ;  but 
feeling  only  that  my  lover  is  of  equally  high  birth  in  the  no- 

*  Elizabeth's  own  words.— Let),  vol.  ii.,  page  62. 


HENBY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COURT.  285 

bility  of  his  sentiment,  in  his  genius  ana*  noble  mind  ;  that  he 
is  my  superior  in  all  the  great  and  fine  qualities  which  should 
adorn  a  man,  and  yet  are  conferred  on  so  few.  Judge  now, 
queen,  whether  that  law  'there  can  make  me  happy.  Ho 
whom  I  love  is  no  prince — no  son  of  a  king." 

"  Poor  Elizabeth ! "  said  Catharine,  clasping  the  young 
girl  fervently  in  her  arms. 

"  And  why  do  you  bewail  my  fate,  when  it  is  in  your 
power  to  make  me  happy?"  asked  Elizabeth,  urgently.  "  It 
was  you  who  prevailed  on  the  king  to  relieve  me  of  the  dis- 
grace that  rested  on  me  ;  you  will  also  have  power  over  him 
to  set  aside  this  clause  which  contains  my  heart's  sentence  of 
condemnation." 

Catharine  shook  her  head  with  a  sigh.  "  My  power  does 
not  reach  so  far,"  said  she,  sadly.  "Ah,  Elizabeth,  why  did 
you  not  put  confidence  in  me?  Why  did  you  not  let  me  know 
sooner  that  your  heart  cherished  a  love  which  is  in  opposition 
to  this  law  ?  Why  did  you  not  tell  your  friend  your  dangerous 
secret  ?  " 

"  Just  because  it  is  dangerous  I  concealed  it  from  you  ; 
and  just  on  that  account  I  do  not  even  now  mention  the  name 
of  the  loved  one.  Queen,  you  shall  not  through  mo  become  a 
guilty  traitoress  against  your  husband ;  for  you  well  know 
that  he  punishes  every  secret  concealed  from  him  as  an  act  of 
high-treason.  No,  queen  ;  if  I  am  a  criminal,  you  shall  not 
be  my  accomplice.  Ah,  it  is  always  dangerous  to  be  the  con- 
fidant of  such  a  secret.  You  see  that  in  John  Hey  wood.  Ho 
alone  was  my  confidant,  and  he  betrayed  me.  I  myself  put 
the  weapons  into  his  hands,  and  he  turned  them  against  me." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Catharine,  thoughtfully  ;  "  John  Heywood 
is  true  and  trusty,  and  incapable  of  treachery." 

"  He  has  betrayed  me  !  "  exclaimed  Elizabeth,  impetuous- 
ly. "  He  knew — he  only — Unit  I  love,  and  that  my  beloved, 
though  of  noble,  still  is  not  of  princely  birth.  \Yt  it  was  he, 
as  you  sai<l  y«mr.-i-lf,  who  moved  the  king  to  introduce  thid 
paragraph  into  the  act  of  succession." 


286  HENET  VHI.    AND    HIS   COURT. 

"  Then,  without  doubt,  he  has  wished  to  save  you  from  an 
error  of  your  heart." 

"  No,  he  has  been  afraid  of  the  danger  of  being  privy  to 
this  secret,  and  at  the  cost  of  my  heart  and  my  happiness  he 
wanted  to  escape  this  danger.  But  oh,  Catharine,  you  are  a 
noble,  great  and  strong  woman  ;  you  are  incapable  of  such 
petty  fear — such  low  calculation  ;  therefore,  stand  by  me  ;  be 
my  savior  and  protectress  !  By  virtue  of  that  oath  which  we 
have  just  now  mutually  taken — by  virtue  of  that  mutual  clasp 
of  the  hands  just  given — I  call  you  to  my  help  and  my 
assistance.  Oh,  Catharine,  allow  me  this  high  pleasure,  so 
full  of  blessing,  of  being  at  some  time,  perhaps,  able  to  make 
him  whom  I  love  great  and  powerful  by  my  will.  Allow  me 
this  intoxicating  delight  of  being  able  with  my  hand  to  offer 
to  his  ambition  at  once  power  and  glory — it  may  be  even  a 
crown.  Oh,  Catharine,  on  my  knees  I  conjure  you — assist 
me  to  repeal  this  hated  law,  which  wants  to  bind  my  heart 
and  my  hand  !  " 

In  passionate  excitement  she  had  fallen  before  the  queen, 
and  was  holding  up  her  hands  imploringly  to  her. 

Catharine,  smiling,  bent  down  and  raised  her  up  in  her 
arms.  "  Enthusiast,"  said  she,  "  poor  young  enthusiast !  Who 
knows  whether  you  will  thank  me  for  it  one  day,  if  I  accede  to 
your  w'ish  ;  and  whether  you  will  not  some  time  curse  this 
hour  which  has  brought  you,  perhaps,  instead  of  the  hoped-for 
pleasure,  only  a  knowledge  of  your  delusion  and  misery  ?  " 

"  And  were  it  even  so, "  cried  Elizabeth,  energetically,  "  still 
it  is  better  to  endure  a  wretchedness  we  ourselves  have  chosen, 
than  to  be  forced  to  a  happy  lot.  Say,  Catharine — say,  will 
you  lend  me  your  assistance  ?  Will  you  induce  the  king  to 
withdraw  this  hated  clause?  If  you  do  it  not,  queen,  I  swear 
to  you,  by  the  soul  of  my  mother,  that  I  will  not  submit  to  this 
law  ;  that  I  will  solemnly,  before  all  the  world,  renounce  the 
privilege  that  is  offered  me  ;  that  I — " 

"  You  are  a  dear,  foolish  child,"  interrupted  Catharine — 
"  a  child,  that  in  youthful  presumption  might  dare  wish  to 


HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUBT.  287 

fetch  the  lightnings  down  from  heaven,  and  borrow  from  Ju- 
piter his  thunderbolt.  Oh,  you  are  still  too  young  and  inexpe- 
rienced to  know  that  fate  regards  not  our  murmurs  and  our 
sighs,  and,  despite  our  reluctance  and  our  refusal,  still  leads 
ua  in  ils  own  ways,  not  our  own.  You  will  have  to  learn  that 
yet,  poor  child  !  " 

"  But  I  will  not !  "  cried  Elizabeth,  stamping  on  the  floor 
with  all  the  pettishness  of  a  child.  *'  I  will  not  ever  and 
eternally  be  the  victim  of  another's  will ;  and  fate  itself  shall 
not  have  power  to  make  me  its  slave !  " 

"  Well,  we  will  see  now,"  said  Catharine,  smiling.  "  We 
will  try  this  time,  at  leqst,  to  contend  against  fate  ;  and  I  will 
assist  yon  if  I  can." 

"  And  I  will  love  you  for  it  as  my  mother  and  my  sister  at 
once,"  cried  Elizabeth,  ns  with  ardor  she  threw  herself  into 
Catharine's  arms.  "  Yes,  I  will  love  you  for  it ;  and  I  will 
pray  God  that  He  may  one  day  give  me  the  opportunity  to 
show  my  gratitude,  and  to  reward  you  for  your  magnanimity 
and  goodness." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

INTRIGUES. 

Foa  a  few  days  past  the  king's  gout  had  grown  worse,  and, 
to  his  wrath  and  grief,  it  confined  him  as  a  prisoner  to  his  roll- 
ing chair. 

The  king  was,  therefore,  very  naturally  gloomy  and  de- 
jected, and  hurled  the  lightnings  of  his  wrath  on  all  those  who 
enjoyed  the  melancholy  prerogative  of  being  in  his  presence. 
His  pains,  instead  of  softening  his  disposition,  seemed  only  to 
heighten  still  more  his  natural  ferocity ;  and  often  might  bo 
heard  through  the  halls  of  the  palace  of  Whitehall  the  king's 
angry  growl,  and  his  loud,  thundering  invectives,  which  no 
longer  spared  any  one,  nor  showed  respect  for  any  rank  or 
dignity. 


288  HENRY   THE.    AKD   HIS   COUKT. 

Earl  Douglas,  Gardiner,  and  Wriothesley,  very  well  knew 
how  to  take  advantage  of  this  wrathful  humor  of  the  king  for 
their  purposes,  and  to  afford  the  cruel  monarch,  tortured  with 
pain,  one  satisfaction  at  least- — the  satisfaction  of  making 
others  suffer  also. 

Never  had  there  been  seen  in  England  so  many  burnt  at 
the  stake  as  in  those  days  of  the  king's  sickness ;  never  had 
the  prisons  been  so  crowded  ;  never  had  so  much  blood  flowed 
as  King  Henry  now  caused  to  be  shed.* 

But  all  this  did  not  yet  suffice  to  appease  the  bloodthirst- 
iness  of  the  king,  and  his  friends  and  counsellors,  and  his 
priests.  , 

Still  there  remained  untouched  two  mighty  pillars  of  Prot- 
estantism that  Gardiner  and  Wriothesley  had  to  overthrow. 
These  were  the  queen  and  Archbishop  Cranmer. 

Still  there  were  two  powerful  and  hated  enemies  whom 
the  Seymours  had  to  overcome  ;  these  were  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk and  his  son,  the  Earl  of  Surrey. 

But  the  various  parties  that  in  turn  besieged  the  king's 
ear  and  controlled  it,  were  in  singular  and  unheard-of  opposi- 
tion, and  at  the  same  time  inflamed  with  bitterest  enmity,  and 
they  strove  to  supplant  each  other  in  the  favor  of  the  king. 

To  the  popish  party  of  Gardiner  and  Earl  Douglas,  every 
thing  depended  on  dispossessing  the  Seymours  of  the  king's 
favor ;  and  they,  on  the  other  hand,  wanted  above  all  things  to 
continue  in  power  the  young  queen,  already  inclined  to  them, 
and  to  destroy  for  the  papists  one  of  their  most  powerful  lead- 
ers, the  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

The  one  party  controlled  the  king's  ear  through  the  queen  ; 
the  other,  through  his  favorite,  Earl  Douglas. 

Never  had  the  king  been  more  gracious  and  affable  to  his 
consort — never  had  he  required  more  Earl  Douglas's  pres- 
ence than  in  those  days  of  his  sickness  and  bodily  anguish. 

*  During  the  king's  reign,  and  at  the  instigation  of  the  clergy,  twenty-eight  hun- 
dred persons  were  burnt  and  executed,  because  they  would  not  recognize  the  relig- 
ious institutions  established  by  the  king  as  the  only  right  and  true  ones. — Leti  vol.  i., 
page  84. 


HENEY  Vin.   AND   HIS  COURT.  289 

But  there  was  yet  a'third  party  that  occupied  an  important 
place  in  the  king's  favor — a  power  that  every  one  feared,  and 
which  seemed  to  keep  itself  perfectly  independent  and  free  from 
all  foreign  influences.  This  power  was  John  Heywood,  the 
king's  fool,  the  epigrammatist,  who  was  dreaded  by  the  whole 
court. 

Only  one  person  had  influence  with  him.  John  Heywood 
was  the  friend  of  the  queen.  For  the  moment,  then,  it  ap- 
peared as  if  the  "  heretical  party,"  of  which  the  queen  was  re- 
garded as  the  head,  was  the  most  powerful  at  court. 

It  was  therefore  very  natural  for  the  popish  party  to  cher- 
ish an  ardent  hatred  against  the  queen  ;  very  natural  for  them 
to  be  contriving  new  plots  and  machinations  to  ruin  her  and 
hurl  her  from  the  throne. 

But  Catharine  knew  very  well  the  danger  that  threatened 
her,  and  she  was  on  her  guard.  She  watched  her  every  look, 
her  every  word  ;  and  Gardiner  and  Douglas  could  not  exam- 
ine the  queen's  manflter  of  life  each  day  and  hour  more  suspi- 
ciously than  she  herself  did. 

She  saw  the  sword  that  hung  daily  over  her  head  ;  and, 
thanks  to  her  prudence  and  presence  of  mind,  thanks  to  the  ever- 
thoughtful  watchfulness  and  cunning  of  her  friend  Heywood  I 
she  had  still  known  how  to  avoid  the  falling  of  that  sword. 

Since  that  fatal  ride  in  the  wood  of  Epping  Forest,  she  had 
.  not  again  spoken  to  Thomas  Seymour  alone ;  for  Cqjharinc 
very  well  knew  that  everywhere,  whithersoever  she  turned  her 
steps,  some  spying  eye  might  follow  her,  some  listener's  ear 
might  be  concealed,  which  might  hear  her  words,  however 
softly  whispered,  and  repeat  them  where  they  might  be  inter- 
preted into  a  sentence  of  death  against  her. 

She  had,  therefore,  renounced  the  pleasure  of  speaking  to 
her  lo\cr  otherwise  than  before  witnesses,  and  of  seeing  him 
otherwise  tlion  in  the  presence  of  her  whole  court. 

"What  need  had  she  i  ilhcr  for  secret  meetings?  What 
mattered  it  to  her  pure  and  innocent  heart  that  she  was  not 
permitted  to  be  alone  with  him?  Still  she  might  see  him,  and 


290  HENBY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

drink  courage  and  delight  from  the  sight  of  his  haughty  and 
handsome  face  ;  still  she  might  be  near  him,  and  could  listen 
to  the  music  of  his  voice,  and  intoxicate  her  heart  with  his  fine, 
euphonious  and  vigorous  discourse. 

Catharine,  the  woman  of  eight-and-twenty,  had  preserved 
the  enthusiasm  and  innocence  of  a  young  girl  of  fourteen. 
Thomas  Seymour  was  her  first  love  ;  and  she  loved  him  with 
that  purity  and  guileless  warmth  which  is  indeed  peculiar  to 
the  first  love  only. 

It  sufficed  her,  therefore,  to  see  him ;  to  be  near  him  ;  to 
know  that  he  loved  her ;  that  he  was  true  to  her ;  that  all  his 
thoughts  and  wishes  belonged  to  her,  as  hers  to  him. 

And  that  she  knew.  For  there  ever  remained  to  her  the 
sweet  enjoyment  of  his  letters — of  those  passionately  written 
avowals  of  his  love.  If  she  was  not  permitted  to  say  also  .to 
him  how  warmly  and  ardently  she  returned  this  love,  yet  she 
could  write  it  to  him. 

It  was  John  Hey  wood,  the  true  anti  discreet  friend,  that 
brought  her  these  letters,  and  bore  her  answers  to  him,  stipu- 
lating, as  a  reward  for  this  dangerous  commission,  that  they 
both  should  regard  him  as  the  sole  confidant  of  their  love ; 
that  both  should  burn  up  the  letters  which  he  brought  them. 
He  had  not  been  able  to  hinder  Catharine  from  this  unhappy 
passion,  but  wanted  at  least  to  preserve  her  from  the  fatal 
consequences  of  it.  Since  he  knew  that  .this  love  needed  a 
confidant,  he  assumed  this  role,  that  Catharine,  in  the  vehe- 
mence of  her  passion  and  in  the  simplicity  of  her  innocent 
heart,  might  not  make  others  sharers  of  her  dangerous  secret. 

John  Hey  wood  therefore  watched  over  Catharine's  safety 
and  happiness,  as  she  watched  over  Thomas  Seymour  and  her 
friends.  He  protected  and  guarded  her  with  the  king,  as  she 
guarded  Cranmer,  and  protected  him  from  the  constantly  re- 
newed assaults  of  his  enemies. 

This  it  was  that  they  could  never  forgive  the  queen — that 
she  had  delivered  Cranmer,  the  noble  and  liberal-minded  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  from  their  snares.  More  than  once 


HENRY   Tin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  291 

Catharine  had  succeeded  ia  destroying  their  intriguing  schemes, 
and  in  rending  the  nets  that  Gardiner  and  Earl  Douglas,  with 
so  sly  and  skilful  a  hand,  had  spread  for  Cranmer. 

If,  therefore,  they  would  overthrow  Cranmer,  they  must 
first  overthrow  the  queen.  For  this  there  was  a  real  means — 
a  means  of  destroying  at  once  the  queen  and  the  hated  Sey- 
mours, who  stood  hi  the  way  of  the  papists. 

If  they  could  prove  to  the  king  that  Catharine  entertained 
criminal  intercourse  with  Thomas  Seymour,  then  were  they 
both  lost ;  then  were  the  power  and  glory  of  the  papists  se- 
cured. 

But  whence  to  fetch  the  proofs  of  this  dangerous  secret, 
which  the  crafty  Douglas  had  read  only  in  Catharine's  eyes, 
and  for  which  he  had  no  other  support  than  his  hare  conviction  ? 
How  should  they  begin  to  influence  the  queen  to  some  incon- 
siderate step,  to  a  speaking  witness  of  her  love? 

Time  hung  so  heavily  on  the  king's  hands  !  It  would  have 
been  so  easy  to  persuade  him  to  some  cruel  deed — to  a  hasty 
sentence  of  death  I 

But  it  was  not  the  blood  of  the  Seymours  for  which  the 
king  thirsted.  Earl  Douglas  very  well  knew  that.  He  who 
observed  the  king  day  and  night — he  who  examined  and 
sounded  his  every  sigh,  each  of  his  softly  murmured  words, 
every  twitch  of  his  mouth,  every  wrinkle  of  his  brow — he  well 
knew  what  dark  and  bloody  thoughts  stirred  the  king's  soul, 
and  whose  blood  it  was  for  which  he  thirsted. 

The  royal  tiger  would  drink  the  blood  of  the  Howards ; 
and  that  they  still  lived  in  health,  and  abundance,  and  glory, 
while  he,  their  king  and  master,  lonely  and  sad,  was  tossing 
on  his  couch  in  paia  and  agony — that  was  the  worm  which 
gnawed  at  the  king's  heart,  which  made  his  pains  yet  more 
painful,  his  tortures  yet  keener. 

The  king  was  jealous — jealous  of  the  power  and  greatness 
of  the  Howards.  It  filled  him  with  gloomy  hatred  to  think 
that  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  when  he  rode  through  the  streets  of 
London,  was  everywhere  received  with  the  acclamations  and 


292  HENRY   VIH.   AND   HIS   CODET. 

rejoicing  of  the  people,  while  he,  the  king,  was  a  prisoner  in 
his  palace.  It  was  a  gnawing  pain  for  him  to  know  that 
Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey,  was  praised  as  the  handsom- 
est and  greatest  man  of  England ;  that  he  was  called  the 
noblest  poet ;  the  greatest  scholar  ;  while  yet  he,  the  king,  had 
also  composed  his  poems  and  written  his  learned  treatises,  ay, 
even  a  particular  devout  book,  which  he  had  printed  for  his 
people,  and  ordered  them  to  read  instead  of  the  Bible.* 

It  was  the  Howards  who  everywhere  disputed  his  fame. 
The  Howards  supplanted  him  in  the  favor  of  his  people,  and 
usurped  the  love  and  admiration  which  were  due  to  the  king 
alone,  and  which  should  be  directed  toward  no  one  but  him. 
He  lay  on  his  bed  of  pain,  and  without  doubt  the  people  would 
have  forgotten  him,  if  he  had  not  by  the  block,  the  stake,  and 
the  scaffold,  daily  reminded  them  of  himself.  He  lay  on  his 
bed  of  pain,  while  the  duke,  splendid  and  magnificent,  exhib- 
ited himself  to  the  people  and  transported  them  with  enthu- 
siasm by  the  lavish  and  kingly  generosity  with  which,  he  scat- 
tered his  money  among  the  populace. 

Yes,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  was  the  king's  dangerous  rival. 
The  crown  was  not  secure  upon  his  head  so  long  as  the 
Howards  lived.  And  who  could  conjecture  whether  in  time 
to  come,  when  Henry  closed  his  eyes,  the  exultant  love  of  the 
people  might  not  call  to  the  throne  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  or 
bis  noble  son,  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  instead  of  the  rightful  heir 
— instead  of  the  little  boy  Edward,  Henry's  only  son  ? 

When  the  king  thought  of  that,  he  had  a  feeling  as  though 
a  stream  of  fire  were  whirling  up  to  his  brain  ;  and  he  convul- 
sively clinched  his  hands,  and  screamed  and  roared  that  he 
would  take  vengeance — vengeance  on  those  hated  Howards, 
who  wanted  to  snatch  the  crown  from  his  son. 

Edward,  the  little  boy  of  tender  age — he  alone  was  the 
divinely  consecrated,  legitimate  heir  to  the  king's  crown.  It 
had  cost  his  father  so  great  a  sacrifice  to  give  his  people  this 
son  and  successor  !  In  order  to  do  it,  he  had  sacrificed  Jaue 

*  Burnet,  vol.  i,  page  95. 


HENKY   Vni.    AND   HIS    COURT.  293 

Seymour,  his  own  beloved  wife  ;  he  had  let  the  mother  be  put 
to  death,  in  order  to  preserve  the  son,  the  heir  of  his  crown. 

And  the  people  did  not  once  thank  the  king  for  this  sacri- 
fice that  Jane  Seymour's  husband  had  made  for  them.  The 
people  received  with  shouts  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  the  father  of 
that  adulterous  queen  whom  Henry  loved  so  much  that  her 
infidelity  had  struck  him  like  the  stab  of  a  poisoned  dagger. 

These  were  the  thoughts  that  occupied  the  king  on  his  bed 
of  pain,  and  upon  which  he  dwelt  with  all  the  wilfulness  and 
moodiness  of  a  sick  man. 

"  We  shall  have  to  sacrifice  these  Howards  to  him"!  "  said 
Earl  Douglas  to  Gardiner,  as  they  had  just  again  listened  to 
a  burst  of  rage  from  their  royal  master.  "  If  we  would  at 
last  succeed  in  ruining  the  queen,  we  must  first  destroy  the 
Howards." 

The  pious  bishop  looked  at  him  inquiringly  and  in  aston- 

ishment. 

• 

Earl  Douglas  smiled.  "  Your  highness  is  too  exalted  and 
noble  to  be  always  able  to  comprehend  the  things  of  this 
world.  Your  look,  which  seeks  only  God  and  heaven,  does 
not  always  see  the  petty  and  pitiful  things  that  happen  here  on 
the  earth  below." 

"  Oh,  but,"  said  Gardiner,  with  a  cruel  smile,  "  I  see  them, 


death  can  be  to  us  a  means  to  our  pk>iAixnU|  godly  end.  You 
are  certain  of  my  blessing  and  my  assistance.  Only  I  do  not 
quite  comprehend  how  the  Howards  can  stand  in  the  way  of 
our  plots  which  are  formed  against  the  queen,  inasmuch  as 
they  are  numbered  among  the  queen's  enemies,  and  profess 
th.'iiiM-lvrs  of  the  Church  inVhich  alone  is  salvation." 

'•  The  Earl  of  Surrey  is  an  apostate,  who  has  opened  his 
ear  and  heart  to  the  doctrines  of  Calvin  1  " 

"  Then  let  his  head  fall,  for  he  is  a  criminal  before  God, 
and  no  ouc  ought  to  have  compassion  on  him  !  And  what  is 
there  that  we  lay  to  the  charge  of  the  father?" 


294  HENET   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

"  The  Duke  of  Norfolk  is  well-nigh  yet  more  dangerous 
than  his  son ;  for  although  a  Catholic,  he  has  not  nevertheless 
the  right  faith  ;  and  his  soul  is  full  of  unholy  sympathy  and  in- 
jurious mildness.  He  bewails  those  whose  blood  is  slied  because 
they  were  devoted  to  the  false  doctrine  of  the  priests  of  Baal ; 
and  he  calls  us  both  the  king's  blood-hounds." 

"  Well,  then,"  cried  Gardiner  with  an  uneasy,  dismal  smile, 
"  we  will  show  him  that  he  has  called  us  by  the  right  name  ; 
we  will  rend  him  in  pieces  ! " 

"Besides,  as  we  have  said,  the  Howards  stand  in  the 
way  of  our  schemes  in  relation  to  the  queen,"  said  Earl  Doug- 
las, earnestly.  "  The  king's  mind  is  so  completely  filled  with 
this  one  hatred  and  this  one  jealousy,  that  there  is  no  room  in 
it  for  any  other  feeling,  for  any  other  hate.  It  is  true  he 
signs  often  enough  these  death-warrants  which  we  lay  before 
him ;  but  he  does  it,  as  the  lion,  with  utter  carelessness  and 
without  anger,  crushes  the  little  mouse  that  is  by  chance  under 
his  paws.  But  if  the  lion  is  to  rend* in  pieces  his  equal,  he 
must  beforehand  be  put  into  a  rage.  When  he  is  raging,  then 
you  must  let  him  have  his  prey.  The  Howards  shall  be  his 
first  prey.  But,  then,  we  must  exert  ourselves,  that  when  the 
lion  again  shakes  his  mane  his  wrath  may  fall  upon  Catharine 
Parr  and  the  Seymours." 

"•The  Lord  our  God  will  be  with  us,  and  enlighten  us, 
that  we  may  find  the  right  means  to  strike  His  enemies  a  sure 
blow  !  "  exclaimed  Gardiner,  devoutly  folding  his  hands. 

"  I  believe  the  right  means  are  already  found,"  said  Earl 
Douglas,  with  a  smile  ;  "  and  even  before  this  day  descends  to 
its  close,  the  gates  of  the  Tower  will  open  to  receive  this 
haughty  and  soft-hearted  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  this  apostate 
Earl  Surrey.  Perchance  we  may  even  succeed  in  striking  at 
one  blow  the  queen  together  with  the  Howards.  See !  an 
equipage  stops  before  the  grand  entrance,  and  I  see  the  Duch- 
ess of  Norfolk  and  her  daughter,  the  Duchess  of  Richmond, 
getting  out  of  the  carriage.  Only  see  I  they  are  making  signs 
to  us.  I  have  promised  to  conduct  these  two  noble  and  pious 


HENRY  vin.  AND  nis  COURT.  295 

ladies  to  the  king,  and  I  shall  do  so.  Whilst  we  are  there, 
pray  for  us,  your  highness,  that  our  words,  like  well-aimed 
arrows,  may  strike  the  king's  he*art,  and  then  rebound  upon 
the  queen  and  the  Seymours  ! " 


CHAPTER     XXIX. 

THE   ACCUSATION. 

IN  vain  had  the  king  hoped  to  master  his  pains,  or  at  least 
to  forget  them,  while  he  tried  to  sleep.  Sleep  had  fled  from 
the  king's  couch  ;  and  as  he  now  sat  in  his  rolling-chair,  sad, 
weary,  and  harassed  with  pain,  he  thought,  with  gloomy  spite, 
that  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  told  him  but  yesterday  that  sleep 
was  a  thing  under  his  control,  and  he  could  summon  it  to  him 
whenever  it  seemed  good  to  him. 

This  thought  made  him  raving  with  anger ;  and  grinding 
his  teeth,  he  muttered  :  "  He  can  sleep  ;  and  I,  his  lord  and 
king — I  am  a  poor  beggar  that  in  vain  whines  to  God  above 
for  a  little  sleep,  a  little  forgetfulness  of  his  pains  !  But  it  is 
this  traitorous  Norfolk  that  prevents  me  from  sleeping. 
Thoughts  of  him  keep  me  awake  and  restless.  And  I  cannot 
crush  this  traitor  with  these  hands  of  mine ;  I  am  a  king,  and 
yet  so  powerless  and  weak,  that  I  can  find  no  means  of  accus- 
ing this  traitor,  and  convicting  him  of  his  sinful  and  blasphe- 
mous deeds.  Oh,  where  may  I  find  him — that  true  friend, 
that  devoted  servant,  who  ventures  to  understand  my  unuttcred 
thoughts,  and  fulfil  the  wishes  to  which  I  dare  not  give  a 
name  ?  " 

Just  as  ho  was  thus  thinking,  the  door  behind  him  opened 
and  in  walked  Earl  Douglas.  Ilia  countenance  was  proud 
and  triumphant,  and  so  wild  a  joy  gleamed  from  his  eyes 
that  even  the;  king  was  surprised  at  it. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  peevishly,  "  you  call  yourself  my  friend ; 
and  you  arc  cheerful,  Douglas,  while  your  king  is  a  poor  pris- 


296  HENKT  VIE.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

oner  whom  the  gout  has  chained  with  brazen  bands  to  this 
chair." 

"  You  will  recover,  my  ting,  and  go  forth  from  this  im- 
prisonment as  the  conqueror,  dazzling  and  bright,  that  by 
his  appearance  under  God's  blessing  treads  all  his  enemies  in 
the  dust — that  triumphs  over  all  those  who  are  against  him, 
and  would  betray  their  king  !  " 

"  Are  there,  then,  any  such  traitors,  who  threaten  their 
king  ?  "  asked  Henry,  with  a  dark  frown. 

"  Ay,  there  are  such  traitors  ! " 

"  Name  them  to  me  !  "  said  the  king,  trembling  with  pas- 
sionate impatience.  "  Name  them  to  me,  that  my  arm  may 
crush  them  and  my  avenging  justice  overtake  the  heads  of  the 
guilty." 

"  It  is  superfluous  to  mention  them,  for  you,  King  Henry, 
the  wise  and  all-knowing — you  know  their  namea." 

And  bending  down  closer  to  the  king's  ear,  Earl  Douglas 
continued :  "  King  Henry,  I  certainly  have  a  right  to  call  my- 
self your  most  faithful  and  devoted  servant,  for  I  have  read 
your  thoughts.  I  have  understood  the  noble  grief  that  dis- 
turbs your  heart,  and  banishes  sleep  from  your  eyes  and  peace 
from  your  soul.  You  saw  the  foe  that  was  creeping  in  the 
dark  ;  you  heard  the  low  hiss  of  the  serpent  that  was  darting 
his  venomous  sting  at  your  heel.  But  you  were  so  much  the 
noble  and  intrepid  king,  that  you  would  not  yourself  become 
the  accuser — nay,  you  would  not  once  draw  back  the  foot 
menaced  by  the  serpent.  Great  and  merciful,  like  God  Him- 
self, you  smiled  upon  him  whom  you  knew  to  be  your  enemy. 
But  I,  my  king — I  have  other  duties.  I  am  like  the  faithful 
dog,  that  has  eyes  only  for  the  safety  of  his  master,  and  falls 
upon  every  one  that  comes  to  menace  him.  I  have  seen  the 
serpent  that  would  kill  you,  and  I  will  bruise  his  head  ! " 

"  And  what  is  the  name  of  this  serpent  of  which  you 
speak  ? "  asked  the  king ;  and  his  heart  beat  so  boisterously 
that  he  felt  it  on  his  trembling  lips. 

"  It  is  called,"  said  Earl  Douglas,  earnestly  and  solemnly 
— "  it  is  called  Howard  !  " 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTJKT.  297 

The  king  uttered  a  cry,  and,  forgetting  his  gout  and  his 
pains,  arose  from  his  chair. 

"  Howard?"  said  he,  with  a  cruel  smile.  "  Say  you  that 
a  Howard  threatens  our  life  ?  Which  one  is  it  ?  Name  me 
the  traitor ! " 

"  I  name  them,  both — father  and  son  !  I  name  the  Duke 
of  Norfolk  and  the  Earl  of  Surrey !  I  say  that  they  both  are 
traitors,  who  threaten  the  life  and  honor  of  my  king,  and  with 
blasphemous  arrogance  dare  stretch  out  their  hands  even  to 
the  crown ! " 

"  Ah,  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it ! "  screamed  the  king.  "  And 
it  was  this  that  made  me  sleepless,  and  ate  into  my  body  like 
red-hot  iron." 

And  as  he  fastened  on  Douglas  his  eyes  flashing  with  rage, 
he  asked,  with  a  grim  smile :  *'  Can  you  prove  that  these 
Howards  are  traitors  ?  Can  you  prove  that  they  aim  at  my 
crown?" 

"  I  hope  to  be  able  to  do  so,"  said  Douglas.  "  To  be  sure, 
there  are  no  great  convincing  facts — " 

"  Oh,"  said  the  king,  interrupting  him  with  a  savage  laugh, 
"there  is  no  need  of  great  facts.  Give  into  my  hand  but  a 
little  thread,  and  I  will  make  out  of  it  a  cord  strong  enough 
to  haul  the  father  and  son  up  to  the  gallows  at  one  time." 

"  Oh,  for  the  son  there  is  proof  enough,"  said  the  carl,  with 
a  smile ;  "  and  as  regards  the  father,  I  will  produce  your 
majesty  some  accusers  against  him,  who  will  be  important 
enough  to  bring  the  duke  also  to  the  block.  Will  you  allow 
me  to  bring  them  to  you  immediately?  " 

"  Yes,  bring  them,  bring  them  !  "  cried  the  king.  u  Every 
minute  is  precious  that  may  lead  these  traitors  sooner  to  their 
punishment." 

Earl  Douglas  stepped  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  Three 
veiled  female  figures  entered  and  bowed  reverentially. 

"  Ah,"  whispered  the  kinjr,  with  a  cruel  smile,  as  he  sank 
back  again  into  his  chair,  "  they  are  the  three  Fates  that  spin 
the  Howard^  thread  of  life,  and  will  now,  it  is  to  be  hoped, 
13* 


298  HENEY   Vni.    AND    HIS   COURT. 

break  it  off.  I  will  furnish  them  with  the  scissors  for  it ;  and 
if  they  are  not  sharp  enough,  I  will,  with  my  own  royal  hands, 
help  the'm  to  break  the  thread." 

"  Sire,"  said  Earl  Douglas,  as,  at  a  sign  from  him,  the 
three  women  unveiled  themselves — "  sire,  the  wife,  the  daugh- 
ter, and  the  mistress  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  have  come  to 
accuse  him  of  high-treason.  The  mother  and  the  sister  of  the 
Earl  of  Surrey  are  here  to  charge  him  with  a  crime  equally 
worthy  of  death." 

"  Now,  verily,"  exclaimed  the  king,  "  it  must  be  a  griev- 
ous and  blasphemous  sin  which  so  much  exasperates  the  tem- 
per of  these  noble  women,  and  makes  them  deaf  to  the  voice  of 
nature !  " 

"  It  is  indeed  such  a  sin,"  said  the  Duchess  of  Norfolk,  in  a 
solemn  tone  ;  and,  approaching  a  few  paces  nearer  to  the  king, 
she  continued :  "  Sire,  I  accuse  the  duke,  my  divorced  husband, 
of  high-treason  and  disloyalty  to  his  king.  He  has  been  so 
bold  as  to  appropriate  your  own  royal  coat-of-arms  ;  and  on 
his  seal  and  equipage,  and  over  the  entrance  of  his  palace,  are 
displayed  the  arms  of  the  kings  of  England." 

"  That  is  true,  "  said  the  king,  who,  now  that  he  was  cer- 
tain of  the  destruction  of  the  Howards,  had  regained  his  calm- 
ness and  self-possession,  and  perfectly 'reassumed  the  air  of  a 
strict,  impartial  judge.  "  Yes,  he  bears  the  royal  arms  on  his 
shield,  but  yet,  if  we  remember  rightly,  the  crown  and  paraph 
of  our  ancestor  Edward  the  Third  are  wanting." 

"  He  has  now  added  this  crown  and  this  paraph  to  his  coat- 
of-arms,5'  said  Miss  Holland.  "He  says  he  is  entitled  to 
them  ;  for  that,  like  the  king,  he  also  is  descended  in  direct 
line  from  Edward  the  Third ;  and,  therefore,  the  royal  arms 
belong  likewise  to  him." 

"  If  he  says  that,  he  is  a  traitor  who  presumes  to  call  his 
king  and  master  his  equal,"  cried  the  king,  coloring  up  with 
a  grim  joy  at  now  at  length  having  his  enemy  in  his  power. 

"  He  is  indeed  a  traitor,"  continued  Miss  Holland.  "  Often 
have  I  heard  him  say  he  had  the  same  right  to  Jjie  throne  of 


HENBY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUET.  299 

England  as  Henry  the  Eighth  ;  and  that  a  day  might  come 
when  he  would  contend  with  Henry's  son  for  that  crown." 

*'  Ah,"  cried  the  king,  and  his  eyes  darted  flashes  so  fierce 
that  even  Earl  Douglas  shrank  before  them,  "  ah,  he  will  con- 
tend with  my  son  for  the  crown  of  England !  It  is  well,  now  ; 
for  now  it  is  my  sacred  duty,  as  a  king  and  .as  a  father,  to 
crush  this  serpent  that  wants  to  bite  me  on  the  heel ;  and  no 
compassion  and  no  pity  ought  now  to  restrain  me  longer.  And 
were  there  no  other  proofs  of  his  guilt  and  his  crime  than 
these  words  that  he  has  spoken  to  you,  yet  are  they  sufficient, 
and  will  rise  up  against  him,  like  the  hangman's  aids  who  are 
to  conduct  him  to  the  block." 

"  But  there  are  yet  other  proofs,"  said  Miss  Holland,  lacon- 
ically. 

The  king  was  obliged  to  unbutton  his  doublet.  It  seemed 
as  though  joy  would  suffocate  him. 

"  Name  them ! "  commanded  he. 

"  He  dares  deny  the  king's  supremacy  ;  he  calls  the  Bishop 
of  Rome  the  sole  head  and  holy  Father  of  the  Church." 

"  Ah,  does  he  so?  "  exclaimed  the  king,  laughing.  "  Well, 
we  shall  see  now  whether  this  holy  Father  will  save  this 
faithful  son  from  the  scaffold  which  we  will  erect  for  him.  Yes, 
yes,  we  must  give  the  world  a  new  example  of  our  incorrupt- 
ible justice,  which  .overtakes  every  one,  however  high  and 
mighty  he  may  be,  and  however  near  our  throne  he  may 
stand.  Really,  really,  it  grieves  our  heart  to  lay  low  this  oak 
which  we  had  planted  so  near  our  throne,  that  we  might  lean 
upon  it  and  support  ourselves  by  it ;  but  justice  demands  this 
sacrifice,  and  we  will  make  it — not  in  wrath  and  spite,  but 
only  to  meet  the  sacred  and  painful  duty  of  our  royalty.  "We 
have  greatly  loved  this  duke,  and  it  grieves  us  to  tear  this 
love  from  our  heart." 

And  with  his  hand,  glittering  with  jewels,  the  king  wiped 
from  his  eyes  the  tears  which  were  not  there. 

"  But  how  ?  "  asked  the  king  then,  after  a  pause,  u  will  you 
have  the  courage  to- repeat  yonr  accusation  publicly  before  Par- 


300  HENRY   Tm.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

liament?  "Will  you,  his  wife,  and  you,  his  mistress,  publicly 
swear  with  a  sacred  oath  to  the  truth  of  your  declaration  ?  " 

"  I  will  do  so,"  said  the  duchess,  solemnly,  "  for  he  is  no 
longer  my  husband,  no  longer  the  father  of*  my  children,  but 
simply  the  enemy  of  my  king ;  and  to  serve  him  is  my  most 
sacred  duty."  - 

"  I  will  do  so,"  cried  Miss  Holland,  with  a  bewitching 
smile  ;  "  for  he  is  no  longer  my  lover,  but  only  a  traitor,  an 
atheist,  who  is  audacious  enough  to  recognize  as  the  holy 
head  of  Christendom  that  man  at  Rome  wbo  has  dared  to 
hurl  his  curse  against'the  sublime  head  of  our  king.  It  is  this, 
indeed,  that  has  torn  my  heart  from  the  duke,  and  that  has 
made  me  now  hate  him  as  ardently  as  I  once  loved  him." 

"With  a  gracious  smile,  the  king  presented  both  his  hands 
to  the  two  women.  "  You  have  done  me  a  great  service  to- 
day, my  ladies,"  said  he,  "  and  I  will  find  a  way  to  reward  you 
for  it.  I  will  give  you,  duchess,  the  half  of  his  estate,  as  though 
you  were  his  rightful  heir  and  lawful  widow.  And  you, 
Miss  Holland,  I  will  leave  in  undisputed  possession  of  all  the 
goods  and  treasures  that  the  enamored  duke  has  given  you." 

The  two  ladies  broke  out  into  loud  expressions  of  thanks 
and  into  enthusiastic  rapture  over  the  liberal  and  generous 
king,  who  was  so  gracious  as  to  give  them  what  they  already 
had,  and  to  bestow  on  them  what  was  already  their  own  prop- 
erty. 

"  Well,  and  are  you  wholly  mute,  my  little  duchess," 
asked  the  king  after  a  pause,  turning  to  the  Duchess  of  Rich- 
mond, who  had  withdrawn  to  the  embrasure  of  a  window. 

"  Sire,"  said  the  duchess,  smiling,  "  I  was  only  waiting  for 
my  cue." 

"  And  this  cue  is — " 

"  Henry  Howard,  earl  of  Surrey !  As  your  majesty 
knows,  I  am  a  merry  and  harmless  woman  ;  and  I  understand 
better  how  to  laugh  and  joke  than  to  talk  much  seriously.  The 
two  noble  and  fair  ladies  have  accused  the  duke,  my  father ; 
and  they  have  done  so  in  a  very  dignified  and  solemn  manner 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  301 


I  wish  to  accuse  my  brother,  Henry  Howard  ;  but  you  must 
exercise  forbearance,  if  my  words  sound  less  solemn  and  ele- 
vated. They  have  told  you,  sire,  that  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  is 
a  traitor  and  a  criminal  who  deuoininates  the  Pope  of  Rome, 
and  not  you,  my  exalted  king,  the  head  of  the  Church.  Now, 
the  Earl  of  Surrey  is  neither  a  traitor  nor  a  papist  ;  and  he 
has  neither  devised  criminal  plots  against  the  throne  of  Eng- 
land, nor  has  he  denied  the  supremacy  of  the  king.  No,  sire, 
the  Earl  of  Surrey  is  no  traitor  and  no  papist  !  " 

The  duchess  paused,  and  looked  with  a  malicious  and 
droll  smile  into  the  astonished  faces  of  those  present. 

A  dark  frown  gathered  on  the  king's  brow,  and  his  eyes, 
which  just  before  had  looked  so  cheerful,  were  now  fixed  with 
an  angry  expression  on  the  young  duchess. 

"  Why,  then,  my  lady,  have  you  made  your  appearance 
here  ?  "  asked  he.  "  Why  have  you  come  here,  if  you  have 
nothing  further  to  say  than  what  I  already  know  —  that  the 
Earl  of  Surrey  is  a  very  loyal  subject,  and  a  man  without  any 
ambition,  who  neither  courts  the  favor  of  my  people  nor 
thinks  of  laying  his  traitorous  hands  on  my  crown?" 

The  young  duchess  shook  her  head  with  a  smile.  "  I  know 
not  whether  he  does  all  that,"  said  she.  "I  have  indeed  heard 
tlmt  he  said,  with  bitter  scorn,  that  you,  my  king,  wanted  to 
be  the  protector  of  religion,  yet  you  yourself  were  entirely 
without  religion  and  without  belief.  Also,  he  of  late  broke 
out  into  bitter  curses  again  sty  on,  because  you  had  robbed  him 
of  his  field-marshal's  staff,  and  given  it  to  Earl  Hertford,  that 
noble  Seymour.  Also,  he  meant  to  see  whether  the  throne  of 
England  were  so  firm  and  steady  that  it  hud  no  need  of  his 
hand  and  his  arm  to  prop  it.  All  that  I  have  of  course 
hi-iinl  from  him  ;  but  you  arc  right,  sire,  it  is  unimportant  — 
it  is  not  worth  mentioning,  and  therefore  I  do  not  even  make 
it  as  an  accusation  against  him." 

"  Ah,  you  are  always  a  road  little  witch,  Rosabella  !" 
crinl  tin-  kin;:,  who  had  regained  his  cheerfulness.  "  Y<>u 
Bay  you  will  not  accuse  him,  and  yet  you  make  his  head  u 


302  HENKY   VIII.    AXD    HIS   COUBT. 

• 

plaything  that  you  poise  upon  your  crimson  lips.  But  take 
care,  my  little  duchess — take  care,  that  this  head  does  not 
fall  from  your  lips  with  your  laughing,  and  roll  down  to  the 
ground  ;  for  I  will  not  stop  it — this  head  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey, 
of  whom  you  say  that  he  is  no  traitor." 

"  But  is  it  not  monotonous  and  tiresome,  if  we  accuse  the 
father  and  son  of  the  same  crime?"  asked  the  duchess,  laugh- 
ing. "  Let  us  have  a  little  variation.  Let  the  duke  be  a  trai- 
tor ;  the  son,  my  king,  is  by  far  a  worse  criminal !  " 

"  Is  there,  then,  a  still  worse  and  more  execrable  crime 
than  to  be  a  traitor  to  his  king  and  master,  and  to  speak  of  the 
anointed  of  the  Lord  without  reverence  and  love  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  majesty,  there  is  a  still  worse  crime  ;  and  of 
that  I  accuse  the  Earl  of  Surrey.  He  is  an  adulterer  !  " 

"  An  adulterer !  "  repeated  the  king,  with  an  expression  of 
abhorrence.  u  Yes,  my  lady,  you  are  right ;  that  is  a  more 
execrable  and  unnatural  crime,  and  we  shall  judge  it  strictly. 
For  it  shall  not  be  said  that  modesty  and  virtue  found  no  pro- 
tector in  the  king  of  this  land,  and  that  he  will  not  as  a  judge 
punish  and  crush  all  those  Avho  dare  sin  against  decency  and 
morals.  Oh,  the  Earl  of  Surrey  is  an  adulterer,  is  he  ?  " 

"  That  is  to  say,  sire,  he  dares  with  his  sinful  love  to  pur- 
sue a  virtuous  and  chaste  wife.  He  dares  to  raise  his  wicked 
looks  to  a  woman  who  stands  as  high  above  him  as  the  sun 
above  mortals,  and  who,  at  least  by  the  greatness  and  high 
position  of  her  husband,  should  be  secure  from  all  impure 
desires  and  lustful  wishes." 

"  Ah,"  cried  the  king,  indignantly,  "  I  see  already  whither 
that  tends.  It  is  always  the  same  accusation  ;  and  now  I 
say,  as  you  did  just  now,  let  us  have  a  little  variation  !  The 
accusation  I  have  already  often  heard ;  but  the  proofs  are 
always  wanting." 

"  Sire,  this  time,  it  may  be,  we  can  give  the  proofs,"  said 
the  duchess,  earnestly.  "  Would  you  know,  my  noble  king,  who 
the  Geraldine  is  to  whom  Henry  Howard  addresses  his  love- 
songs?  Shall  I  tell  you  the  real  name  of  this  woman  to 


HKSEY   VIH.   AND   HIS   COUET.  303 

• 

whom,  in  the  presence  of  your  sacred  person  and  of  your 
•whole  court,  he  uttered  his  passionate  protestations  of  love  and 
his  oath  of  eternal  faithfulness?  Well,  now,  this  Geraldine, 
so  adored,  so  deified — is  the  queen  !  " 

"  That  is  not  true  !  "  cried  the  king,  crimson  with  anger ; 
and  he  clinched  his  hands  so  firmly  about  the  arms  of  his 
chair  that  it  cracked.  "  That  is  not  true,  my  lady  !  " 

"  It  is  true  ! "  said  the  duchess,  haughtily  and  saucily.  "  It 
is  true,  sire,  for  the  Earl  of  Surrey  has  confessed  to  me  my- 
self that  it  is  the  queen  whom  he  loves,  and  that  Geraldine  is 
only  a  melodious  appellation  for  Catharine." 

"  He  has  confessed  it  to  you  yourself?  "  inquired  the  king, 
with  gasping  breath.  "Ah,  he  dares  love  his  king's  wife? 
Woe  to  him,  woe  ! " 

.He  raised  his  clinched  fist  threateningly  to  heaven,  and  his 
eyes  darted  lightning.  "  But  how  !  "  said  he,  after  a  pause — 
"  has  he  not  recently  read  before  us  a  poem  to  his  Geraldine,  in 
which  he  thanks  her  for  her  love,  and  acknowledges  himself 
eternally  her  debtor  for  the  kiss  she  gave  him?  " 

"  He  has  read  before  your  majesty  such  a  poem  to  Geral- 
dine." 

The  king  uttered  a  low  cry,  and  raised  himself  in  his  seat. 
"  Proofs,"  said  he,  in  a  hoarse,  hollow  voice — "  proofs — or,  I 
tell  you,  your  own  head  shall  atone  for  this  accusation  !  " 

"  This  proof,  your  majesty,  /  will  give  you  ! "  paid  Earl 
Douglas,  solemnly.  "  It  pleases  your  majesty,  in  the  fulness  of 
your  gentleness  and  mercy,  to  want  to  doubt  the  accusation  of 
the  noble  duchess.  Well,  now,  I  will  furnish  you  infallible 
proof  that  Henry  Howard,  earl  of  Surrey,  really  loves  the  queen, 
and  that  he  really  dares  to  extol  and  adore  the  king's  wife  as 
his  Geraldine.  You  shall  with  your  own  ears,  sire,  hear  how 
Earl  Surrey  swears  his  love  to  the  queen." 

The  scream  which  the  king  now  uttered  was  so  frightful, 
and  gave  evidence  of  so  much  inward  agony  aud  rage,  that  it 
struck  the  earl  dumb,  and  made  the  cheeks  of  the  ladies  turn 
pale. 


304  HENRY   Yin.   ASTD   HIS   COUET. 

"  Douglas,  Douglas,  beware  how  you  rouse  the  lion ! " 
gasped  the  king.  "  The  lion  might  rend  you  yourself  in 
pieces ! " 

"  This  very  night  I  will  give  you  the  proof  that  you  de- 
mand, sire.  This  very  night  you  shall  hear  how  Earl  Surrey, 
sitting  at  the  feet  of  his  Geraldine,  swears  to  her  his  love." 

"  It  is  well ! "  said  the  king.  "  This  night,  then  !  Woe  to 
you,  Douglas,  if  you  cannot  redeem  your  word ! " 

"  I  will  do  so,  your  majesty.  For  this,  it  is  only  necessa- 
ry that  you  will  be  graciously  pleased  to  swear  to  me  that  you 
will  not,  by  a  sigh  or  a  breath,  betray  yourself.  The  earl  is 
suspicious  ;  and  the  fear  of  an  evil  conscience  has  sharpened 
his  ear.  He  would  recognize  you  by  your  sigh,  and  his  lips 
would  not  speak  those  words  and  avowals  which  you  desire  to 
hear." 

"  I  swear  to  you  that  I  will  not  by  any  sigh  or  breath  be- 
tray my  presence  ! "  said  the  king,  solemnly.  "  I  swear  this  to 
you  by  the  holy  mother  of  God !  But  now  let  that  suffice. 
Air — air — I  suffocate  !  Every  thing  swims  before  my  eyes. 
Open  the  window,  that  a  little  air  may  flow  in  !  Ah,  that  is 
good  !  This  air  at  least  is  pure,  and  not  infected  with  sin  and 
slander ! " 

And  the  king  had  Earl  Douglas  roll  him  to  the  opened 
window,  and  inspired  in  long  draughts  that  pure  fresh  air. 
Then  he  turned  to  the  ladies  with  an  agreeable  smile. 

"  My  ladies,"  said  he,  "I  thank  you  !  You  have  to-day 
shown  yourselves  my  true  and  devoted  friends  !  I  shall  ever 
reraember'it,  and  I  beg  you,  if  at  any  time  you  need  a  friend 
and  protector,  to  apply  to  us  with  all  confidence.  "We  shall 
never  forget  what  great  service  you  have  to-day  rendered 
us." 

He  nodded  to  them  in  a  friendly  manner,  whilst,  with  a  ma- 
jestic wave  of  the  hand,  he  dismissed  them,  and  concluded  the 
audience. 

"  And  now,  Douglas,"  exclaimed  the  king,  vehemently,  as 
soon  as  the  ladies  had  retired — "  now  I  have  had  enough  of 


HENKT   VIH.    AND   HIS   COURT.  305 

this  dreadful  torture  !  Oh,  you  say  I  am  to  punish  the4raitors- — 
these  Surreys — and  you  inflict  on  me  the  most  frightful  pains 
of  the  rack  !  " 

"  Sire,  there  was  no  other  means  of  delivering  up  this  Sur- 
rey to  you.  You  were  wishing  that  he  were  a  criminal ;  and 
I  shall  prove  to  you  that  he  is  so." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  then  be  able  at  least  to  tread  his  hated  head 
under  my  feet !  "  said  the  king,  grinding  his  teeth.  "  I  shall 
no  more  tremble  before  this  malicious  enemy,  who  goes  about 
among  my  people  with  his  hypocritical  tongue,  while  I,  tortured 
with  pain,  sit  in  the  dungeon  of  my  sick-room.  Yes,  yes,  I 
thank  you,  Douglas,  that  you  will  hand  him  over  to  my  arm 
of  vengeance  ;  and  my  soul  is  full  of  joy  and  serenity  at  it.  Ah, 
why  were  you  obliged  to  cloud  this  fair,  this  sublime  hour  ? 
"WTiy  was  it  necessary  to  weave  the  queen  into  this  gloomy  web 
of  guilt  and  crime  ?  Her  cheerful  smile  and  her  radiant  looks 
have  ever  been  an  enjoyment  so  dear  to  my  eyes." 

"  Sire,  I  do  not  by  any  means  say  that  the  queen  is  guilty. 
Only  there  was  no  other  means  to  prove  to  you  Earl  Surrey's 
guilt  than  that  you  should  hear  for  yourself  his  confession  of 
love  to  the  queen." 

"  And  I  will  hear  it !  "  cried  the  king,  who  had  now  already 
overcome  the  sentimental  emotion  of  his  heart.  "  Yes,  I  will 
have  full  conviction  of  Surrey's  guilt ;  and  woe  to  the  queen, 
should  I  find  her  also  guilty  1  This  night,  then,  earl !  But 
till  then,  silence  and  secrecy  1  We  will  have  father  and  son 
si'i/i-d  and  imprisoned  at  the  same  hour;  for  otherwise  the  im- 
prisonment of  the  one  might  easily  serve  as  a  warning  to  the 
oilier,  and  he  might  escape  my  just  wrath.  Ah,  they  arc  so 
sly — thest:  Howards — and  their  hearts  are  so  full  of  cunning 
and  malice !  But  now  they  shall  escape  me  no  more ;  now 
they  arc  ours !  How  it  does  me  good  to  think  that !  And 
how  briskly  and  lightly  my  heart  leaps!  It  is  as  though  a 
stivam  of  new  life  wm-  rushing  through  my  veins,  and  a  new 
power  wen:  infused  into  my  blood.  Oh,  it  was  these  Howards 
that  made  me  sick.  I  shall  bo  well  again  when  I  know  that 


306  HENRY   Vm.   AND   HIS   COTJET. 


they  are  in  the  Tower.  Yes,  yes,  my  heart  leaps  with  joy, 
and  this  is  to  be  a  happy  and  blessed  day.  Call  the  queen 
hither  to  me,  that  I  may  oiice  more  enjoy  her  rosy  face  before 
I  make  it  turn  pale  with  terror.  Yes,  let  the  queen  come,  and 
let  her  adorn  herself  ;  I  want  to  see  her  once  more  in  the  full 
splendor  of  her  youth  and  her  royalty,  before  her  star  goes 
out  in  darkness.  I  will  once  more  delight  myself  with  her  be- 
fore I  make  her  weep.  Ahr  know  you,  Douglas,  that  there  is 
no  enjoyment  keener,  more  devilish,  and  more  heavenly,  than 
to  see  such  a  person  who  smiles  and  suspects  nothing,  while 
she  is  already  condemned  ;  who  still  adorns  her  head  with 
roses,  while  the  executioner  is  already  sharpening  the  axe  that 
is  to  lay  that  head  low  ;  who  still  has  hopes  of  the  future,  and 
of  joy  and  happiness,  while  her  hour  of  life  has  already  run 
out  ;  while  I  have  already  bidden  her  stop  and  descend  into 
the  grave  !  So,  call  the  queen  to  me  ;  and  tell  her  that  we  are 
in  a  merry  mood,  and  want  to  jest  and  laugh  with  her  !  Call 
all  the  ladies  and  lords  of  our  court;  and  have  the  royal  sa- 
loons opened  ;  and  let  them  be  radiant  with  the  brilliancy  of 
the  lights  ;  and  let  us  have  music  —  loud,  crashing  music  —  for 
we  want  at  least  to  make  this  a  merry  day  for  us  since  it  seems 
as  though  we  should  have  a  sad  and  unhappy  night.  Yes,  yes, 
a  merry  day  we  will  have  ;  and  after  that,  let  come  what  cpme 
may  !  The  saloons  shall  resound  witH  laughter  and  joyfulness  ; 
and  naught  but  rejoicing  and  fun  shall  be  heard  in  the  great 
royal  saloons.  And  invite  also  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  my  no- 
ble cousin,  who  shares  with  me  my  royal  coat-of-arms.  Yes, 
invite  him,  that  I  may  enjoy  once  more  his  haughty  and  impos- 
ing beauty  and  grandeur  before  this  august  sun  is  extinguished 
and  leaves  us  again  in  night  and  darkness.  Then  invite  also 
Wriothesley,  the*  high  chancellor,  and  let  him  bring  with  him  a 
few  gallant  and  brave  soldiers  of  our  body-guard.  They  are 
to  be  the  noble  duke's  suite,  when  he  wishes  to  leave  our  feast 
and  go  homeward  —  homeward  —  if  not  to  his  palace,  yet  to 
the  Tower,  and  to  the  grave.  Go,  go,  Douglas,  and  attend  to 
all  this  for  me  !  And  send  me  here  directly  my  merry  fool, 


HENBY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  307 

John  Heywood.  He  mast  pass  away  the  time  for  me  till  the 
feast  begins.  He  must  make  me  laugh  and  be  gay." 

"  I  will  go  and  fulfil  your  orders,*  sire,"  said  Earl  Doug- 
las. "  I  will  order  the  feast,  and  impart  your  commands  to 
the  queen  and  your  court.  And  first  of  all,  I  will  send  John 
Heywood  to  you.  But  pardon  me,  your  majesty,  if  I  venture 
to  remind  you  that  you  have  given  me  your  royal  word  not 
.to  betray  our  secret  by  a  single  syllable,  or  even  by  a  sigh." 

"  I  gave  my  word,  and  I  will  keep  it ! "  said  the  king. 
"  Go  now,  Earl  Douglas,  and  do  what  I  have  bidden  you  ! " 

"\Vholly  exhausted  by  this  paroxysm  of  cruel  delight,  the 
king  sank  back  in  his  seat,  and  moaning  and  groaning  he 
rubbed  his  leg,  the  piercing  pains  of  which  he  had  for  a 
moment  forgotten,  but  which  now  reminded  hiru  of  their  pres- 
ence with  so  much  the  more  cruel  fury. 

"  Ah,  ah  !  "  moaned  the  king.  "  He  boasts  of  being  able 
to  sleep  when  he  pleases.  Well,  this  time  we  will  be  the  one 
to  lull  this  haughty  earl  to  sleep.  But  it  will  be  a  sleep  out 
of  which  he  is  never  to  awake  again  !  " 

While  the  king  thus  wailed  and  suffered,  Earl  Douglas 
hastened  with  quick,  firm  step  through  the  suite  of  royal 
apartments.  A  proud,  triumphant  smile  played  about  his  lips, 
and  a  joyful  expression  of  victory  flashed  from  his  eyes. 

"  Triumph  !  triumph  !  we  shall  conquer  !  "  said  he,  as  he 
now  entered  his  daughter's  chamber  and  extended  his  hand  to 
Lady  Jane.  "  Jane,  we  have  at  last  reached  the  goal,  and 
you  will  soon  be  King  Henry's  seventh  wife  1 " 

A  rosy  shimmer  flitted  for  a  moment  over  Lady  Jane's 
pale,  colorless  cheeks,  and  a  smile  played  about  her  lips — u 
smile,  however,  which  was  more  sad  than  loud  sobs  could 
have  1 

"  Ah,"  said  she  in  a  low  tone,  "  I  fear  only  that  my  poor 
l:r:id  will  be  too  weak  to  wear  a  royal  crown." 

"  Courage,  courage,  Jane,  lift  up  your  head,  and  be  again 
my  strong,  proud  daughter  1 " 

"  But,  I  suffer  so  much,  my  father,"  sighed  she.  "  It  is 
hell  thut  burns  within  me ! " 


308  HENRY  vnr.  AND  HIS  comer. 

"  But  soon,  Jane,  soon  you  shall  feel  again  the  bliss  of 
heaven !  I  had  forbidden  you  to  grant  Henry  Howard  a 
meeting,  because  it  might  bring  us  danger.  Well,  then,  now 
your  tender  heart  shall  be  satisfied.  To-night  you  shall  em- 
brace your  lover  again  !  " 

"  Oh,"  murmured  she,  "  he  will  again  call  me  his  Geral- 
dine,  and  it  will  not  be  I,  but  the  queen,  that  he  kisses  in  my 
arms ! " 

"  Yes,  to-day,  it  will  still  be  so,  Jane  ;  but  I  swear  to  you 
that  to-day  is  the  last  time  that  you  are  obliged  to  receive 
him  thus." 

"  The  last  time  that  I  see  him?  "  asked  Jane,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  alarm. 

"  No,  Jane,  only  the  last  time  that  Henry  Howard  loves 
in  you  the  queen,  and  not  you  yourself." 

"  Oh,  he  will  never  love  me  ! "  murmured  she,  sadly. 

"  He  will  love  you,  for  you  it  will  be  that  will  save  his 
life.  Hasten,  then,  Jane,  haste  !  Write  him  quickly  one  of 
those  tender  notes  that  you  indite  with  so  masterly  a  hand. 
Invite  him  to  a  meeting  to-night  at  the  usual  time  and  place." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  at  last  have  him  again !  "  whispered  Lady 
Jane  ;  and  she  stepped  to  the  writing-table  and  with  trembling 
hand  began  to  write. 

But  suddenly  she  stopped,  and  looked  at  her  father  sharply 
and  suspiciously. 

"  You  swear  to  me,  my  father,  that  no  danger  threatens 
him  if  he  comes  ?  " 

"  I  swear  to  you,  Jane,  that  you  shall  be  the  one  to  save 
his  life  !  I  swear  to  you,  Jane,  that  you  shall  take  vengeance 
on  the  queen — vengeance  for  all  the  agony,  the  humiliation 
and  despair  that  you  have  suffered  by  her.  To-day  she  is  yet 
Queen  of  England  !  To-morrow  she  will  be  nothing  more 
than  a  criminal,  who  sighs  in  the  confinement  of  the  Tower 
for  the  hour  of  her  execution.  And  you  will  be  Henry's 
seventh  queen.  Write,  then,  my  daughter,  write  !  And  may 
love  dictate  to  you  the  proper  words  !  " 


HENRY   Vm.   AND  HIS  COURT.  309 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE     FEAST    OP    DEATH. 

FOR  a  long  time  the  king  had  not  appeared  in  such  good 
spirits  as  on  this  festive  evening.  For  a  long  time  he  had 
not  been  so  completely  the  tender  husband,  the  good-natured 
companion,  the  cheerful  bon  vivant. 

The  pains  of  his  leg  seemed  to  have  disappeared,  and  even 
the  weight  of  his  body  seemed  to  be  less  burdensome  than 
usual,  for  more  than  once  he  rose  from  his  chair,  and  walked 
a  few  steps  through  the  brilliantly  lighted  saloon,  in  which 
the  ladies  and  lords  of  his  court,  in  festive  attire,  were  mov- 
ing gently  to  and  fro  ;  in  which  music  and  laughter  resounded. 

How  tender  he  showed  himself  toward  the  queen  to- 
day ;  with  what  extraordinary  kindness  he  met  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk  ;  with  what  smiling  attention  he  listened  to  the 
Earl  of  Surrey,  as  he,  at  the  king's  desire,  recited  some  new 
sonnets  to  Geraldine  ! 

This  marked  preference  for  the  noble  Howards  enraptured 
the  Roman  Catholic  party  at  court,  and  filled  it  with  new 
hopes  -and  new  confidence. 

But  one  there  was  who  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  de- 
ceived by  this  mask  which  King  Henry  had  to-day  put  on 
o.ver  his  wrathful  face. 

John  Heywood  had  faith  neither  in  the  king's  cheerfulness 
nor  in  his  tenderness.  Ho  knew  the  king  ;  he  was  aware  that 
those  to  whom  he  was  most  friendly  often  had  the  most  to 
fear  from  him.  Therefore,  he  watched  him  ;  and  he  saw,  be- 
neath this  mask  of  friendliness,  the  king's  real  angry  counte- 
nance sometimes  flash  out  iu  a  quick,  hasty  look. 

The  resounding  music  and  the  mad  rejoicing  no  more  de- 
1  .Icilni  Heywood.  lie  beheld  Death  standing  bi-liind  this 
dazzling  life  ;  ho  smelt  the  reek  of  corruption  concealed  be- 
neath the  perfume  of  these  brilliant  flowers. 


310  HENRY  Vin.    ASTD   HIS   COURT. 

John  Hey  wood  no  longer  laughed  and  no  longer  chatted. 
He  watched. 

For  the  first  time  in  a  long  while  the  king  did  not  need  to- 
day the  exciting  jest  and  the  stinging  wit  of  his  ibol  in  order  to 
be  cheerful  and  in  good  humor. 

So  the  fool  had  time  and  leisure  to  be  a  reasonable  and  ob- 
servant man  ;  and  he  improved  the  time. 

He  saw  the  looks  of  mutual  understanding  and  secure  tri- 
umph that  Earl  Douglas  exchanged  with  Gardiner,  and  it 
made  him  mistrustful  to  notice  that  these  favorites  of  the  king, 
at  other  times  so  jealous,  did  not  seem  to  be  at  all  disturbed 
by  the  extraordinary  marks  of  favor  which  the  Howards 
were  enjoying  this  evening. 

Once  he  heard  how  Gardiner  asked  Wriothesley,  as  he 
passed  by,  "And  the  soldiers  of  the  Tower  ?"  and  how  he 
replied  just  as  laconically,  "  They  stand  near  the  coach,  and 
wait." 

It  was,  therefore,  perfectly  clear  that  somebody  would  be 
committed  to  prison  this  very  day.  There  was,  therefore, 
among  the  laughing,  richly-attired,  and  jesting  guests  of  this 
court,  one  who  this  very  night,  when  he  left  these  halls  radi- 
ant with  splendor  and  pleasure,  was  to  behold  the  dark  and 
gloomy  chambers  of  the  Tower. 

The  only  question  was,  who  that  one  was  for  whom  the 
brilliant  comedy  of  this  evening  was  to  be  changed  to  so  sad  a 
drama. 

John  Heywood  felt  his  heai-t  oppressed  with  an  unaccount- 
able apprehension,  and  the  king's  extraordinary  tenderness 
toward  the  queen  terrified  him. 

As  now  he  smiled  on  Catharine,  as  he  now  stroked  her 
cheeks,  so  had  the  king  smiled  on  Anne  Boleyn  in  the  same 
hour  that  he  ordered  her  arrest;  so  had  he  stroked  Buck- 
ingham's cheek  011  the  same  day  that  he  signed  his  death-war- 
rant. 

The  fool  was  alarmed  at  this  brilliant  feast,  resounding 
music,  and  the  mad  merriment  of  the  king.  He  was  horrified 


HENEY   Vm.   AND   HIS   COUKT.  311 

at  the  laughing  faces  and  frivolous  jests,  which  came  stream- 
ing from  all  those  mirthful  lips. 

O  Heaven !  they  laughed,  and  death  was  in  the  midst 
of  them;  they  laughed,  and  the  gates  of  the  Tower  were  al- 
ready opened  to  admit  one  of  those  merry  guests  of  the  king 
into  that  house  which  no  one  in  those  days  of  Henry  the 
Eighth  left  again,  save  to  go  to  the  stake  or  to  ascend  the  scaf- 
fold ! 

Who  was  the  condemned?  For  whom  were  the  soldiers 
below  at  the  carriage  waiting?  John  Hey  wood  in  vain  racked 
his  brain  with  this  question. 

Nowhere  could  he  spy  a  trace  that  might  lead  him  on  the 
right  track ;  nowhere  a  clue  that  might  conduct  him  through 
this  labyrinth  of  horrors. 

"  When  you  are  afraid  of  the  devil,  you  do  well  to  put  your- 
self under  his  immediate  protection,"  muttered  John  Heywood  ; 
and  sad  and  despondent  at  heart,  he  crept  behind  the  king's 
throne  and  crouched  down  by  it  on  the  ground. 

John  Heywood  had  such  a  little,  diminutive  form,  and  the 
king's  throne  was  so  large  and  broad,  that  it  altogether  con- 
cealed the  little  crouching  fool. 

No  one  had  noticed  that  John  Heywood  was  concealed 
there  behind  the  king.  Nobody  saw  his  large,  keen  eyes  peep- 
ing out  from  behind  the  throne  and  surveying  and  watching  the 
whole  hall. 

John  Heywood  could  see  every  thing  and  hear  every  thing 
going  on  in  the  vicinity  of  the  king.  He  could  observe  every 
one  who  approached  the  queen. 

He  saw  Lady  Jane  likewise,  who  was  standing  by  the 
queen's  seat.  He  saw  how  Earl  Douglas  drew  near  his 
daughter,  and  how  she  turned  deadly  pale  as  he  stepped  up  to 

John  Ht-ywood  held  hi.s  breath  and  listened. 

Earl  Douglas  stood  near  his  daughter,  and  nodded  to  her 
with  a  peculiar  .«milr.  "  ( lo,  now,  Jane,  go  and  change  your 
drees.  It  ia  time.  Only  see  how  impatiently  and  longingly 


312  HENKY   VIII.    AND    HIS   COUET. 

Henry  Howard  is  already  looking  this  way,  and  with  what 
languishing  and  enamored  glances  he  seems  to  give  a  hint  to 
the  queen.  Go  then,  Jane,  and  think  of  your  promise." 

"  And  will  you,  my  father,  also  think  of  your  promise  ?  " 
inquired  Lady  Jane,  with  trembling  lips.  "  Will  no  danger 
threaten  him  ?  " 

"  I  will,  Jane.  But  now  make  haste,  my  daughter,  and  be 
prudent  and  adroit." 

Lady  Jane  bowed,  and  murmured  a  few  unintelligible 
words.  Then  she  approached  the  queen,  and  begged  permis- 
sion to  retire  from  the  feast,  because  a  severe  indisposition 
had  suddenly  overtaken  her. 

Lady  Jane's  countenance  was  so  pale  and  death-like,  that 
the  queen  might  well  believe  in  the  indisposition  of  her  first 
maid  of  honor,  and  she  allowed  her  to  retire. 

Lady  Jane  left  the  hall.  The  queen  continued  the  conver- 
sation with  Lord  Hertford,  who  was  standing  by  her. 

It  was  a  very  lively  and  warm  conversation,  and  the  queen 
therefore  did  not  heed  what  was  passing  around  her ;  and  she 
heard  nothing  of  the  conversation  between  the  king  and  Earl 
Douglas. 

John  Heywood,  still  crouching  behind  the  king's  throne, 
observed  every  thing  and  heard  every  word  of  this  softly  whis- 
pered conversation. 

"  Sire,"  said  Earl  Douglas,  "  it  is  late  and  the  hour  of 
midnight  is  drawing  nigh.  Will  your  majesty  be  pleased  to 
conclude  the  feast?  For  you  well  know  that  at  midnight  we 
must  be  over  there  in  the  green  summer-house,  and  it  is  a 
long  way  there." 

"  Yes,  yes,  at  midnight !  "  muttered  the  king.  "  At  mid- 
night the  carnival  is  at  an  end ;  and  we  shall  tear  off  our 
mask,  and  show  our  wrathful  countenance  to  the  criminals ! 
At  midnight  we  must  be  over  in  the  green  summer-house. 
Yes,  Douglas,  we  must  make  haste  ;  for  it  would  be  cruel  to 
let  the  tender  Surrey  wait  still  longer.  ,  So  we  will  give  his 
Geraldine  liberty  to  leave  the  feast ;  and  we  ourselves  must 


HENRY  Vm.   AND  HIS  COURT.  313 

begin  our  journey.  Ah,  Douglas,  it  is  a  hard  path  that  we 
have  to  tread,  and  the  furies  and  gods  of  vengeance  bear  our 
torches.  To  work,  then — to  work  !  " 

The  king  arose  from  his  seat,  and  stepped  to  the  queen,  to 
whom  he  presented  his  hand  with  a  tender  smile. 

"  My  lady,  it  is  late,"  said  he  ;  "  and  we,  who  are  king  of 
so  many  subjects — we  are,  nevertheless,  in  turn,  the  subject  of 
a  king.  This  is  the  physician,  and  we  must  obey  him.  He 
has  ordered  irie  to  seek  my  couch  before  midnight,  and,  as 
a  loyal  subject  must  do,  I  obey.  We  wish  you,  therefore,  a 
good-night,  Kate  ;  and  may  your  beautiful  eyes  on  the  morrow 
also  shine  as  star-like  as  they  do  to-night." 

"  They  will  shine  to-morrow  as  to-night,  if  my  lord  and 
husband  is  still  as  gracious  to  me  to-morrow  as  to-day,"  said 
Catharine,  with  perfect  artlessness  and  without  embarrass- 
ment, as  she  gave  her  hand  to  the  king. 

Henry  cast  on  her  a  suspicious,  searching  look,  and  a  pe- 
culiar, malicious  expression  was  manifested  in  his  face. 

"  Do  you  believe  then,  Kate,  that  we  can  ever  be  ungra- 
cious to  you  ?  "  asked  he. 

"As  to  that,  I  think,"  said  she,  with  a  smile,  "  that  even 
the  sun  does  not  always  shine ;  and  that  a  gloomy  night  al- 
ways succeeds  his  splendor." 

The  kiug  did^riot  reply.  He  looked  her  steadily  in  the 
face,  and  his  features  suddenly  assumed  a  gentler  expression. 

Perhaps  he  had  compassion  on  his  young  wife.  Perhaps 
he  fclt  pity  for  her  youth  and  her  enchanting  smile,  which  had 
so  often  revived  and  refreshed  his  heart. 

Karl  Douglas  ot  least  feared  so. 

"•Sire,"  said  he,  "  it  is  late.  The  hour  of  midnight  is 
drawing  nigh." 

"  Then  let  us  go,"  exclaimed  the  king,  with  a  sigh.  "  Yet 
once  ji^iin,  gooil-nii:ht,  Kate  I  Nay,  do  not  accompany  me! 
1  will  leave  the  hull  quite  unobserved  ;  and  I  shall  be  pleased, 
if  my  !_riit---H  will  still  prolong  the  lair  feast  till  morning.  All 
of  you  remain  here  !  No  one  but  Douglas  accompanies  me." 
14 


31.4:  HENBY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

"  And  your  brother,  the  fool ! "  said  John  Heywood,  who 
long  before  had  corne  out  of  his  hiding-place  and  was  now 
standing  by  the  king.  "  Yes,  come,  brother  Henry ;  let  us 
quit  this  feast.  It  is  not  becoming  for  wise  men  of  our  sort 
to  grant  our  presence  still  longer  to  the  feast  of  fools.  Come 
to  your  couch,  king,  and  I  will  lull  your  ear  to  sleep  with  the 
sayings  of  my  wisdom,  and  enliven  your  soul  with  the  manna 
of  my  learning." 

While  John  Heywood  thus  spoke,  it  did  not  escape  him 
that  the  features  of  the  earl  suddenly  clouded  and  a  dark 
frown  settled  on  his  brow. 

"  Spare  your  wisdom  for  to-day,  John,"  said  the  king ; 
"  for  you  would  indeed  be  preaching  only  to  deaf  ears.  I  am 
tired,  and  I  require  not  your  erudition,  but  sleep.  Good- 
night, John." 

The  king  left  the  hall,  leaning  on  Earl  Douglas's  arm. 

"  Earl  Douglas  does  not  wish  me  to  accompany  the  king," 
whispered  John  Heywood.  "  He  is  afraid  the  king  might 
blab  out  to  me  a  little  of  that  diabolical  work  which  they  will 
commence  at  midnight.  "Well,  I  call  the  devil,  as  well  as  the 
king,  my  brother,  and  with  his  help  I  too  will  be  in  the  green- 
room at  midnight.  Ah,  the  queen  is  retiring ;  and  there  is 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk  leaving  the  hall.  I  have  a  slight  longing 
to  see  whether  the  duke  goes  hence  luckily  and  without  danger, 
or  if  the  soldiers  who  stand  near  the  coach,  as  Wriothesley 
says,  will  perchance  be  the  duke's  body-guard  for  this  night." 

Slipping  out  of  the  hall  with  the  quickness  of  a  cat,  John 
Heywood  passed  the  duke  in  the  anteroom  and  hurried  on  to 
the  outer  gateway,  before  which  the  carriages  were  drawn  up. 

John  Heywood  leaned  against  a  pillar  and  watched.  A 
few  minutes,  and  the  duke's  tall  and  proud  form  appeared  in 
the  entrance-hall ;  and  the  footman,  hurrying  forward,  called 
his  carriage. 

The  carriage  rolled  up  ;  the  door  was  opened. 

Two  men  wrapped  in  black  mantles  sat  by  the  coachman  ; 
two  others  stood  behind  as  footmen,  while  a  fifth  was  by  the 
open  door  of  the  carriage. 


IIENKY   V1H.    AJSTD   HIS    COTJET.  315 

The  duke  first  noticed  him  as  his  foot  had  already  touched 
the  step  of  the  carriage. 

"  This  is  not  my  equipage  !  These  are  not  my  people  !  " 
said  he  ;  and  he  tried  to  step  back.  But  the  pretended  servant 
forced  him  violently  into  the  carriage  and  shut  the  door. 

"  Forward  !  "  ordered  he.  The  carriage  rolled  on.  A 
moment  still,  John  Heywood  saw  the  duke's  pale  face  appear 
at  the  open  carriage  window,  and  it  seemed  to  him  as  though 
he  were  stretching  out  his  arms,  calling  for  help — then  the 
carriage  disappeared  in  the  night. 

"Poor  duke!"  murmured  John  Heywood.  "The  gates 
of  the  Tower  are  heavy,  and  your  arm  will  not  be  strong 
enough  to  open  them  again,  when  they  have  once  closed  be- 
hind you.  But  it  avails  nothing  to  think  more  about  him  now. 
The  queen  is  also  in  danger.  Away,  then,  to  the  queen !  " 

With  fleet  foot  John  Heywood  hastened  back  into  the 
castle.  Through  passages  and  corridors  he  slipped  hurriedly 
along. 

Now  he  stood  in  the  corridor  which  led  to  the  apartments 
of  the  queen. 

"  I  will  constitute  her  guard  to-night,"  muttered  John  Hey- 
wood, as  he  hid  himself  in  one  of  the  niches  in  the  corridor. 
"  The  fool  by  his  prayers  will  keep  far  from  the  door  of  his 
saint  the  tricks  of  the  devil,  and  protect  her  from  the  snares 
,  which  the  pious  Bishop  Gardiner  and  thecrafly  courtier  Doug- 
las want  to  lay  for  her  feet  My  queen  shall  not  fall  and  be 
ruined.  The  fool  yet  lives  to  protect  her." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE   QUEEX. 

FROBI  the  niche  in  which  John  Heywood  had  hid  himself  he 
could  survey  the  entire  corridor  and  all  the  doors  opening  into 
it— could  see  every  thing  and  hear  every  thing  without  bcifig 
himself  seen,  for  the  projecting  pilaster  completely  shaded  him. 


316  HENKY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

So  John  Heywood  stood  and  listened.  All  was  quiet  in 
the  corridor.  In  the  distance  was  now  and  then  heard  the 
deadened  sound  of  the  music  ;  and  the  confused  hum  of  many 
voices  from  the  festive  halls  forced  its  way  to  the  listener's 
ear. 

This  was  the  only  thing  that  John  Heywood  perceived. 
All  else  was  still. 

But  this  stillness  did  not  last  long.  The  corridor  was 
lighted  up,  and  the  sound  of  rapidly  approaching  footsteps  was 
heard. 

It  was  the  gold-laced  lackeys,  who  bore  the  large  silver 
candelabra  to  light  the  queen,  who,  with  her  train  of  ladies, 
was  passing  through  the  corridor. 

She  looked  wondrously  beautiful.  The  glare  of  the  candles 
borne  before  her  illumined  her  countenance,  which  beamed 
with  cheerfulness.  As  she  passed  the  pillar  behind  which 
John  Heywood  was  standing,  she  was  talking  in  unrestrained 
gayety  with  her  second  maid  of  honor ;  and  a  clear  and  lively 
laugh  rang  from  her  lips,  which  disclosed  both  rows  of  her 
dazzling  white  teeth.  Her  eyes  sparkled ;  her  cheeks  were 
flushed  with  a  rich  red ;  bright  as  stars  glittered  the  diamonds 
in  the  diadem  that  encircled  her  lofty  brow  ;  like  liquid  gold 
shone  her  dress  of  gold  brocade,  the  long  trail  of  which, 
trimmed  with  black  ermine,  was  borne  by  two  lovely  pages. 

Arrived  at  the  door  of  her  bed-chamber,  the  queen  dis- 
missed her  pages  and  lackeys,  and  permitted  only  the  maid  of 
honor  to  cross  the  threshold  of  her  chamber  with  her. 

In  harmless  gossip  the  pages  glided  down  the  corridor  and 
the  staircase.  Then  came  the  lackeys  who  bore  the  candela- 
bra. They  also  left  the  corridor. 

Now  all  was  quiet  again.  Still  John  Heywood  stood  and 
listened,  firmly  resolved  to  speak  to  the  queen  yet  that  night, 
even  should  he  be  obliged  to  wake  her  from  sleep.  Only  ho 
wanted  to  wait  till  the  maid  of  honor  also  had  left  the  queen's 
room. 

Now  the  door  opened,  and  the  maid  of  honor  came  out. 


HENRY   TUT.    AND    HIS   COTTBT.  317 

She  crossecUthe  corridor  to  that  side  where  her  own  apart- 
ments^tfere  situated.  John  Hey  wood  heard  her  open  the 
door  and  then  slide  the  bolt  on  the  inside. 

"  Now  but  a  brief  time  longer,  and  I  will  go  to  the  queen," 
mutte^iid  John  Hey  wood. 

He  was  jyst  going  to  leave  his  lurking-place,  when  he  per- 
ceived a/noise  as  if  a  door  were  slowly  and  cautiously  opened. 

John  Heywood  cowered  again  close  behind  the  pillar,  and 
held  hSs^ireatJi  to  listen. 

A  bright  light  fell  over  the  corridor.  A  dress  came  rus- 
tling nda/er  and  nearer. 

John  lieywood  gazed  astounded  and  amazed  at  the  figure, 
which  just  brushed  past  without  seeing  him. 

That  fjgure  was  Lady  Jane  Douglas — Lady  Jane,  who, 
on  account' of  indisposition,  had  retired  from  the  feast  in  order 

to  betake  ftferself  to  rest.   Now,  when  all  rested,  she  watched — 

•  . 

when  all  lajel  aside  tneir  festive  garments,  she  had  adorned 

herself  with  the  same.  Like  the  queen,  she  wore  a  dress  of 
gold  brocade,  trimmed^with  ermine,  and,  like  her,  a  diadem  of 
diamonds  adormjfl^ Lady  Jane's  brow. 

r^  '^^ 

Now  she  stood  before  the  queen's  door  and  listened.  Then 
a  fierce  sneer^Htted  across  her  deathly  pale  face,  and  her  dark 
eyes  flashed  still  more. 

"  She  sleeps,"  muttered  she.  "  Only  sleep,  queen — sleep 
till  we  shall  come  to  awake  you  !  Sleep,  so  that  I  can  wake 
for  you." 

She  raised  her  arm  threateningly  toward  the  door,  and 
wildly  shook  her  head.  Her  long  black  ringlets  encircled  and 
dancud  around  her  sullen  brow  like  the  snakes  of  the  furies  ; 
and  pale  and  colorless,  and  with  demon-like  beauty,  she  re- 
sembled altogether  the  goddess  of  vengeance,  in  scornful  tri- 
umph preparing  to  tread  her  victim  beneath  her  feet. 

With  a  low  laugh  she  now  glided  adown  the  corridor,  but 
not  to  that  staircase  yonder,  but  farther  down  to  the  end, 
where  on  the  wall  hung  a  life-size  picture  of  Henry  the 
Sixth.  She  pressed  on  a  spring ;  the  picture  flew  open,  and 


318  IIENJRT   VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

through  the  door  concealed  behind  it  Lady  Jane  left  the  corri- 
dor. 

"  She  is  going  to  the  green-room  to  a  meeting  with  Henry 
Howard  !  "  whispered  John  Hey  wood,  who  now  stepped  forth 
from  behind  the  pillar.  "  Oh,  now  I  comprehend  it  all ;  now 
the  whole  of  this  devilish  plot  is  clear  to  me ;  Lady  Jane  is 
Earl  Surrey's  lady-love,  and  they  want  to  make  the  king  believe 
that  it  is  the  queen.  Doubtless  this  Surrey  is  with  them  in 
the  conspiracy,  and  perhaps  he  will  call  Jane  Douglas  by  the 
name  of  the  queen.  They  will  let  the  king  see  her  but  a  mo- 
ment. She  wears  a  gold  brocade  dress  and  a  diamond  dia- 
dem like  the  queen  ;  and  thereby  they  hope  to  deceive  Henry. 
She  has  the  queen's  form  precisely  ;  and  everybody  knows  the 
astonishing  similarity  and  likeness  of  Lady  Jane's  voice  to  that 
of  the  queen.  Oh,  oh,  it  is  a  tolerably  cunning  plot !  But 
nevertheless  you  shall  not  succeed,  and  you  shall  not  yet 
gain  the  victory.  Patience,  only  patience  !  We  likewise  will 
be  in  the  green-room,  and  face  to  face  with  this  royal  counter- 
feit we  will  place  the  genuine  queen  ! "  » 

With  hurried  step  John  Heywood  also  left  the  corridor, 
which  was  now  lonely  and  still,  for  the  queen  had  gone  to 
rest.  * 

Yes,  the  queen  slept,  and  yet  over  yonder  in  the  green- 
room every  thing  was  prepared  for  her  reception. 

It  was  to  be  a  very  brilliant  and  extraordinary  reception  ; 
for  the  king,  in  his  own  person,  had  betaken  himself  to  that 
wing  of  the  castle,  and  the  chief  master  of  ceremonies.  Earl 
Douglas,  had  accompanied  him. 

To  the  king,  this  excursion,  which  he  had  to  make  on  foot, 
had  been  very  troublesome  ;  and  this  inconvenience  had  made 
him  only  still  more  furious  and  excited,  and  the  last  trace  of 
compassion  for  his  queen  had  disappeared  from  the  king's 
breast,  for  on  Catharine's  account  he  had  been  obliged  to 
make  this  long  journey  to  the  green-room  ;  and  with  a  grim 
joy  Henry  thought  only  how  terrible  was  to  be  his  punishment 
for  Henry  Howard  and  also  for  Catharine. 


HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS    COUKT.  319 

Now  that  Earl  Douglas  had  brought  him  hither,  the  king 
no  longer  had  any  doubts  at  all  of  the  queen's  guilt.  It- was 
no  longer  an  accusation— it  was  proof.  For  never  in  the 
world  would  Earl  Douglas  have  dared  to  bring  him,  the  king, 
hither,  if  he  were  not  certain  that  he  would  give  him  here  in- 
fallible proofs. 

The  king,  therefore,  no  longer  doubted ;  at  last  Heuiy 
Howard  was  in  his  power,  and  he  could  no  more  escape  him. 
So  he  was  certain  of  being  able  to  Lring  these  two  hated 
enemies  to  the  block,  and  of  feeling  his  sleep  no  longer  dis- 
turbed by  thoughts  of  his  two  powerful  rivals. 

The  Duke  of  Norfolk  had  already  passed  the  gates  of  the 
Tower,  and  his  son  must  soon  follow  him  thither. 

At  this  thought  the  king  felt  an  ecstasy  so  savage  and  blood- 
thirsty, that  he  wholly  forgot  that  the  same  sword  that  was  to 
strike  Henry  Howard's  head  was  drawn  on  his  queen  also. 

They  were  now  standing  in  the  green-room,  and  the  king 
leaned  panting  and  moaning  on  EaipTDouglas's  arm. 

The  large  wide  room,  with  its  antique  furniture  and  its 
faded  glory,  \vas  only  gloomily  and  scantily  lighted  in  the  mid- 
dle by  the  two  wax-candles  of  the  candelabrum  that  Earl  Doug- 
las had  brought  with  him  ;  while  further  away  it  was  envel- 
oped in  deep  gloom,  and  seemed  to  the  eye  through  this  gloom 
to  stretch  out  to  an  interminable  length. 

"  Through  the  door  over  there  comes  the  queen,"  said 
Douglas ;  aud  ho  himself  shrank  at  the  load  sound  of  his 
voice,  which  in  the  large,  desolate  room  became  of  awful  ful- 
ness. "  And  that,  there,  is  Henry  Howard's  entrance.  Oh, 
he  knows  that  path  very  thoroughly  ;  for  he  has  often  enough 
already  travelled  it  in  the  dark  night,  and  his  foot  no  longer 
stumbles  on  any  stone  of  offence  !  " 

"  But  he  will  perchance  stumble  on  the  headsman's  block  !  " 
muttered  the  king,  with  a  cruel  laugh. 

li  I  now  take  the  liberty  of  asking  one  question  more," 
said  Douglas ;  and  the  king  did  not  suspect  how  stormily  the 
earl's  heart  beat  at  this  question.  "  Is  your  majesty  satisfied 


320  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUBT. 

to  see  the  earl  and  the  queen  make  their  appearance  at  this 
meeting?  Or,  do  you  desire  to  listen  to  a  little  of  the  earl's 
ten  der  protestations  ?  " 

"  I  will  hear  not  a  little,  but  all !  "  said  the  king.  "  Ah,  let 
us  allow  the  earl  yet  to  sing  his  swan-like  soug  before  he 
plunges  into  the  sea  of  blood  !  " 

"  Then,"  said  Earl  Douglas,  "  then  we  must  put  out  this 
light,  and  your  majesty  must  be  content  merely  to  hear  the 
guilty  ones,  and  not  to  see  them  also.  We  will  then  betake 
ourselves  to  the  boudoir  here,  which  I  have  opened  for  this 
purpose,  and  in  which  is  an  easy-chair  for  your  majesty.  We 
will  place  this  chair  near  the  open  door,  and  then  your  ma- 
jesty will  be  able  to  hear  every  Avord  of  their  tender  whisper- 
ings." 

"  But  how  shall  we,  if  we  extinguish  this  our  only  light, 
at  last  attain  to  a  sight  of  this  dear  loving  pair,  and  be  able  to 
afford  them  the  dramatic  surprise  of  our  presence  ?  " 

"  Sire,  as  soon  as  the  Earl  of  Surrey  enters,  twenty  men 
of  the  king's  body-guard  will  occupy  the  anteroom  through 
which  the  earl  must  pass  ;  and  it  needs  but  a  call  from  you  to 
have  them  enter  the  hall  with  their  torches.  I  have  taken 
care  also  that  before  the  private  back-gate  of  the  palace  two 
coaches  stand  ready,  the  drivers  of  which  know  very  well  the 
street  that  leads  to  the  Tower  !  " 

"  Two  coaches?"  said  the  king,  laughing.  "Ah,  ah, 
Douglas,  how  cruel  we  are  to  separate  the  tender,  loving  pair 
on  this  journey  which  is  yet  to  be  their  last !  Well,  perhaps 
we  can  compensate  them  for  it,  and  allow  these  turtle-doves  to 
make  the  last  trip — the  trip  to  the  stake — together.  No,  no, 
AVG  will  not  separate  them  in  death.  Together  they  may  lay 
their  heads  on  the  block." 

The  king  laughed,  quite  delighted  with  his  jest,  while,  lean- 
ing on  the  earl's  arm,  he  crossed  to  the  little  boudoir  on  the 
other  side,  and  took  his  place  in  -the  armchair  set  near  the 
door. 

"  Now  we  must  extinguish  the  light ;  and  may  it  please 


HENRY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COUET.  321 

your  majesty  to  await  in  silence  the  things  that  are  to 
conic." 

The  earl  extinguished  the  light,  and  deep  darkness  and  a 
grave/like  stillness  now  followed. 

But  this  did  not  last  long.  Now  was  heard  quite  dis- 
tinctly the  sound  of  footsteps.  They  came  nearer  and  nearer 
— now  a  door  was  heard  to  open  and  shut  again,  and  it  was 
as  though  some  one  were  creeping  softly  along  on  his  toes  in 
the  hall. 

"  Henry  Howard  ! "  whispered  Douglas. 

The  king  could  scarcely  restrain  the  cry  of  savage,  mali- 
cious delight  that  forced  its  way  to  his  lips. 

The  hated  enemy  was  then  in  his  power ;  he  was  con- 
victed of  the  crime  ;  he  was  inevitahly  lost. 

"  Geraldine  !  "  whispered  a  voice,  "  Geraldine  !  " 

And  as  if  his  low  call  had  already  been  sufficient  to  draw 
hither  the  loved  one,  the  secret  door  here  quite  close  to  the 
boudoir  opened.  The  rustling  of  a  dress  was  very  distinctly 
heard,  and  the  sound  of  footsteps. 

"  Geraldine  !  "  repeated  Earl  Surrey. 

"  Here  I  am,  my  Henry  !  " 

With  an  exclamation  of  delight,  the  woman  rushed  for- 
ward toward  the  sound  of  the  loved  voice. 

"  The  queen  1  "  muttered  Henry  ;  and  in  spite  of  himself 
he  felt  his  heart  seized  with  bitter  grief. 

He  saw  with  his  inward  eye  how  they  held  each  other  in 
their  embrace.  Ho  heard  their  kisses  and  the  low  whisper 
of  their  tender  .vows,  and  all  the  agonies  of  jealousy  and 
wrath  filled  his  soul.  But  yet  the  king  prevailed  upon  him- 
pclf  to  be  silent  and  swallow  down  his  rage.  He  wanted  to 
hear  every  thing,  to  know  every  thing. 

lie  clinched  his  hands  convulsively,  and  pressed  his  lips 
firmly  together  to  hold  in  his  panting  breath.  He  wanted  to 
hear. 

How  happy  they  both  were  !  Henry  had  wholly  forgotten 
that  lie  had  come  to  reproach  her  for  her  long  silence;  sho 
li* 


322  HKNBY   Vm.    AND   HIS   CODKT. 

did  not  think  about  this  being  the  last  time  she  might  see  her 
lover. 

They  were  with  each  other,  and  this  hour  was  theirs. 
What  did  the  whole  world  matter  to  them?  What  cjared 
they  whether  or  not  mischief  and  ruin  threatened  them  here- 
after? 

They  sat  by  each  other  on  the  divan,  quite  near  the  bou- 
doir. They  jested  and  laughed  ;  and  Henry  Howard  kissed 
away  the  tears  that  the  happiness  of  the  present  caused  his 
Geraldine  to  shed. 

He  swore  to  her  eternal  and  unchanging  love.  In  blissful 
silence  she  drank  in  the  music  of  his  words  ;  and  then  she  re- 
iterated, with  jubilant  joy,  his  vows  of  love. 

The  king  could  scarcely  restrain  his  fnry. 

The  heart  of  Earl  Douglas  leaped  with  satisfaction  and 
gratification.  "  A  lucky  thing  that  Jane  has  no  suspicion  of 
our  presence,"  thought  he — "  otherwise  she  would  have  been 
less  unrestrained  and  ardent,  and  the  king's  ear  would  have 
imbibed  less  poison." 

Lady  Jane  thought  not  at  all  of  her  father ;  she  scarcely 
remembered  that  this  very  night  would  destroy  her  hated  rival 
the  queen. 

Henry  Howard  had  called  her  his  Geraldine  only.  Jane 
had  entirely  forgot  that  it  was  not  she  to  whom  her  lover  had 
given  this  name. 

But  he  himself  finally  reminded  her  of  it. 

"  Do  you  know,  Geraldine,"  said  Earl  Surrey,  and  his 
voice,  which  had  been  hitherto  so  cheerful  and  sprightly,  was 
now  sad — "  do  you  know,  Geraldine,  that  I  have  had  doubts 
of  you?  Oh,  those  were  frightful,  horrible  hours;  and  in 
the  agony  of  my  heart  I  came,  at  last  to  the  resolution  of  go- 
ing to  the  king  and  accusing  myself  of  this  love  that  was  con- 
suming my  heart.  Oh,  fear  naught !  I  would  not  have  ac- 
cused you.  I  would  have  even  denied  that  love  which  you 
have  so  often  and  with  such  transporting  reality  sworn  to  me. 
I  would  have  done  it  in  order  to  see  whether  my  Geraldine 


IIENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET.  323 

could  at  last  gain  courage  and  strength-  to  acknowledge  her 
love  openly  and  frankly  ;  whether  her  heart  had  the  power  to 
burst  that  iron  band  which  the  deceitful  rules  of  the  world  had 
placed  around  it ;  whether  she  would  acknowledge  her  lover 
when  he  was  willing  to  die  for  her.  Yes,  Geraldine,  I  wanted 
to  do  it,  that  I  might  finally  know  which  feeling  is  stronger  in 
you — love  or  pride — and  whether  you  could  then  still  preserve 
the  mask  of  indifference,  when  death  was  hovering  over  your 
lover's  head.  Oh,  Geraldine,  I  should  deem  it  a  fairer  fate 
to  die  united  with  you,  than  to  be  obliged  to  still  longer  endure 
this  life  of  constraint  and  hateful  etiquette." 

"No,  no,"  said  she  trembling,  u  we  will  not  die.  My 
God,  life  is  indeed  so  beautiful  when  you  are  by  my  side ! 
And  who  knows  whether  a  felicitous  and  blissful  future  may 
not  still  await  us  ?  " 

"  Oh,  should  we  die,  then  should  we  be  certain  of  this 
blissful  future,  my  Geraldine.  There  above,  there  is  no 
more  separation — no  more  renunciation  for  us.  There  above, 
you  are  mine,  and  the  bloody  image  of  your  husband  no  long- 
er stands  between  us." 

"  It  shall  no  longer  do  so,  even  here  on  earth,"  whispered 
Geraldine.  "  Come,  my  beloved ;  let  us  fly  far,  far  hence, 
where  no  one  knows  us — where  we  can  cast  from  us  all  this 
haled  splendor,  to  live  for  each  other  and  for  love." 

She  threw  her  arms  about  her  lover,  and  in  the  ecstasy  of 
her  lovo  she  had  wholly  forgotten  that  she  could  never  in- 
deed think  to  flee  with  him,  that  he  belonged  to  her  only  so 
long  as  he  saw  her  not. 

An  inexplicable  anxiety  overpowered  her  heart ;  and  in  this 
anxiety  she  forgot  every  thing — even  the  queen  and  the  ven- 
geance she  hod  vowed. 

She  now  remembered  her  father's  words,  and  she  trembled 
for  her  lover's  life. 

If  now  her  father  had  not  told  her  the  truth — if  now  he 
had  notwithstanding  sacrificed  Henry  Howard  in  order  to 
ruin  the  queen — if  she  was  not  able  to  save  him,  and  through 
her  fault  he  were  to  perish  on  the  scaffold — 


324:  HENBY    VHI.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

But  still  this  hour  was  hers,  and  she  would  enjoy  it. 

She  clung  fast  to  his  breast ;  she  drew  him  with  irresisti- 
ble force  to  her  heart,  which  now  trembled  no  longer  for  love, 
but  from  a  nameless  anxiety. 

"  Let  us  fly  !  Let  us  fly  ! "  repeated  she,  breathlessly. 
"  See !  This  hour  is  yet  ours.  Let  us  avail  ourselves  of 
it ;  for  who  knows  whether  the  next  will  still  belong  to  us  ?  " 

"  No  !  it  is  no  longer  yours,"  yelled  the  king,  as  he  sprang 
like  a  roused  lion  from  his  seat.  "  Your  hours  are  numbered, 
and  the  next  already  belongs  to  the  hangman ! " 

A  piercing  shriek  burst  from  Geraldine's  lips.  Then  was 
heard  a  dull  fall. 

'"  She  has  fainted,"  muttered  Earl  Douglas. 

"  Geraldine,  Geraldine,  my  loved  one ! "  cried  Henry 
Howard.  "  My  God,  my  God !  she  is  dying !  You  have 
killed  her  !  Woe  to  you  !  " 

""Woe  to  yourself!"  said  the  king,  solemnly.  "Here 
with  the  light !  Here,  you  folks  !  " 

The  door  of  the  anteroom  opened,  and  in  it  appeared  four 
soldiers  with  torches  in  their  hands. 

"  Light  the  candles,  and  guard  the  door  ! "  said  the  king, 
whose  dazzled  eyes  were  not  yet  able  to  bear  this  bright  glare 
of  light  which  now  suddenly  streamed  through  the  room. 

The  soldiers  obeyed  his  orders.  A  pause  ensued.  The 
king  had  put  his  hand  before  his  eyes,  and  was  struggling  for 
breath  and  self-control. 

When  at  length  he  let  his  hand  glide  down,  his  features 
had  assumed  a  perfectly  calm,  almost  a  serene  expression. 

With  a  hasty  glance  he  surveyed  the  room.  He  saw  the 
queen  in  her  dress  glistening  with  gold ;  he  saw  how  she 
lay  on  the  floor, -stretched  at  full  length,  her  face  turned  to  the 
ground,  motionless  and  rigid. 

He  saw  Henry  Howard,  who  knelt  by  his  beloved  and  was 
busy  about  her  with  all  the  anxiety  and  agony  of  a  lover. 
He  saw  How  he  pressed  her  hands  to  his  lips  ;  how  he  put  his 
hand  to  her  head  to  raise  it  from  the  floor. 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET.  325 


The  king  was  speechless  with  rage.  He  could  only  lift 
his  arm  to  beckon  the  soldiers  to  approach  ;  to  point  to  Henry 
Howard,  who  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  raising  the  queen's 
head  from  the  floor. 

"  Arrest  him  !  "  said  Earl  Douglas,  lending  words  to  the 
king's  mute  sign.  "  In  the  king's  name  arrest  him,  and  con- 
duct him  to  the  Tower  !  " 

"  Yes,  arrest  him  !  "  said  the  king  ;  and,  as  with  youthful 
speed  he  walked  up  to  Henry  Howard  and  put  his  hand  heavily 
on  his  shoulder,  he  with  terrible  calmness  continued  :  "  Henry 
Howard,  your  wish  shall  be  fulfilled  ;  you  shall  mount  the 
scaffold  for  which  you  have  so  much  longed  !  " 

The  earl's  noble  countenance  remained  calm  and  unmoved  ; 
his  bright  beaming  eye  fearlessly  encountered  the  eye  of  the 
king  flashing  witli  wrath. 

"  Sire,"  said  he,  "  my  life  is  in  your  hand,  and  I  very  well 
know  that  you  will  not  spare  it.  I  do  not  even  ask  you  to  do 
so.  But  spare  this  noble  and  beautiful  woman,  whose  only 
crime  is  that  she  has  followed  the  voice  of  her  heart.  Sire,  I 
alone  am  the  guilty  one.  Punish  me,  then  —  torture  me,  if  you 
like,  but  be  merciful  to  her." 

The  king  brpke  out  into  a  loud  laugh.  "  Ah,  he  begs  for 
her  !  "  said  he.  "  This  little  Earl  Surrey  presumes  to  think  that 
his  sentiinential  love-plaint  can  exercise  an  influence  on  the 
heart  of  his  judge  !  No,  no,  Henry  Howard  ;  you  know  me 
better.  You  gay,  indeed,  that  I  am  a  cruel  man,  and  that 
blood  cleaves  to  my  crown.  Well,  now,  it  is  our  pleasure  to 
set  in  our  crown  a  new  blood-red  ruby  ;  and  if  wo  want  to 
take  it  frojn  Geraldine's  heart's  blood,  your  sonnets  will  not 
hinder  us  from  doing  so,  my  good  little  carl.  That  is  all  the 
rq»ly  I  have  to  make  to  you  ;  and  I  think  it  will  be  the  last 
time  that  we  shall  meet  on  earth  !  " 

"  There  above  we  shall  see  each  other  again,  King  Henry 
of  England  !  "  said  Karl  Surrey,  solemnly.  "  There  above 
Hi  nry  the  Kiglith  will  no  more  bo  the  judge,  but  the  con- 
demned criminal  ;  and  your  bloody  and  accursed  deeds  will 
witness  against  you  !  " 


326  IIENRY  vrn.  AND  nis  CODBT. 

The  king  laughed.  "  You  avail  yourself  of  your  advan- 
tage," said  he.  "  Because  you  have  nothing  more  to  lose  and 
the  scaffold  is  sure  of  you,  you  do  not  stick  at  heaping  up  the 
measure  of  your  sius  a  little  more,  and  you  revile  your  legiti- 
mate, God-appointed  king !  But  you  should  bear  in  mind, 
earl,  that  before  the  scaffold  there  is  yet  the  rack,  and  that  it 
is  very  possible  indeed  that  a  painful  question  might  there  be 
put  to  the  noble  Earl  Surrey,  to  which  his  agonies  might 
prevent  him  from  returning  an  answer.  Now,  away  with  you  ! 
"We  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  each  other  on  earth  ! " 

He  motioned  to  the  soldiers,  who  approached  the  Earl  of 
Surrey.  As  they  reached  their  hands  toward  him,  he  turned 
on  them  a  look  so  proud  and  commanding  that  they  involun- 
tarily recoiled  a  step. 

"  Follow  me  ! "  said  Henry  Howard,  calmly  ;  and,  without 
even  deigning  the  king  a  single  look  more,  with  head  proudly 
srect,  he  walked  to  the  door. 

Geraldine  still  lay  on  the  ground — her  face  turned  to  the 
floor.  She  stirred  not.  She  seemed  to  have  fallen  into  a 
deep  swoon. 

Only  as  the  door  with  a  sullen  sound  closed  behind  Earl 
Surrey,  a  low  wail  and  moan  was  perceived — such  as  is  wont 
to  struggle  forth  at  the  last  hour  from  the  breast  of  the  dying. 

The  king  did  not  heed  it.  He  still  gazed,  with  eyes  stem 
and  flashing  with  anger,  toward  the  door  through  which  Earl 
Surrey  had  passed. 

"  He  is  unyielding,"  muttered  he.  "  Not  even  the  rack 
affrights  him  ;  and  in  his  blasphemous  haughtiness  he  moves 
along  in  the  midst  of  the  soldiers,  not  as  a  prisoner,  but  as  a 
commander.  Oh,  these  Howards  are  destined  to  torment  me  ; 
and  even  their  death  will  scarcely  be  a  full  satisfaction  to 
me."  * 

"  Sire,"  said  Earl  Douglas,  who  had  observed  the  king 
with  a  keen,  penetrating  eye,  and  knew  that  lie  had  now 
reached  the  height  of  his  wrath,  at  which  he  shrank  from  no 
deed  of  violence  and  no  cruelty — "  sire,  you  have  sent  Earl 


HENRY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COTJKT.  327 

Surrey  to  the  Tower.  But  what  shall  be  done  with  the  queen, 
who  lies  there  on  the  floor  in  a  swoon  ?  " 

The  king  roused  himself  from  his  reverie  ;  and  his  blood- 
shot eyes  were  fixed  on  Geraldine's  motionless  form  with  so 
dark  an  expression  of  hate  and  rage,  that  Earl  Douglas  exult- 
ingly  said  to  himself:  "  The  queen  is  lost !  He  will  be  inexo- 
rable ! " 

"  Ah,  the  queen !  "  cried  Henry,  with  a  savage  laugh. 
"  Yea,  verily,  I  forgot  the  queen.  I  did  not  think  of  this 
charming  Geraldine  !  But  you  are  right,  Douglas  ;  we  must 
think  of  her  and  occupy  ourselves  a  little  with  her !  Did  you 
not  say  that  a  second  coach  was  ready  ?  Well,  then,  we  will  not 
hinder  Geraldine  from  accompanying  her  beloved.  She  shall 
be  where  he  is — in  the  Tower,  and  on  the  scaffold  !  We  will 
therefore  wake  this  sentimental  lady  and  show  her  the  last  duty 
of  a  cavalier  by  conducting  her  to  her  carriage  ! " 

He  was  about  to  approach  the  figure  of  the  queen  lying  on 
the  floor.  Earl  Douglas  held  him  back. 

"  Sire,"  said  he,  "  it  is  my  duty — as  your  faithful  subject, 
who  loves  you  and  trembles  for  your  welfare — it  is  my  duty, 
to  implore  you  to  spare  yourself  and  preserve  your  precious 
and  adored  person  from  the  venomous  sting  of  anger  and 
grief.  I  conjure  you,  therefore,  do  not  deign  to  look  again 
on  this  woman,  who  has  so  deeply  injured  you.  Give  me  your 
orders — what  I  am  to  do  with  her — and  allow  me  first  of  all 
to  accompany  you  to  your  apartments." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  king,  "  she  is  not  worthy  of 
having  my  eyes  rest  on  her  again  ;  and  she  is  even  too  con- 
temptible for  my  anger !  We  will  call  the  soldiers  that  they 
may  conduct  this  traitress  and  adulteress  to  the  tower,  as  they 
have  done  her  paramour." 

"  Yet  for  that  there  is  needed  still  a  formality.  The  quecu 
will  not  be  admitted  into  the  Tower  without  the  king's  written 
and  sealed  order." 

"Then  I  will  «lruw  up  that  order." 

"  Sire,  in  that  cabinet  yonder  may  be  found  the  necessary 
writing-materials,  if  it  please  your  majesty." 


328  HENEY   Vm.    AND    HIS   COUBT. 

The  king  leaned  in  silence  on  the  earl's  arm,  and  allowed 
himself  to  be  led  again  into  the  cabinet. 

With  officious  haste  Earl  Douglas  made  the  necessary  ar- 
rangements. He  rolled  the  writing-table  up  to  the  king;  he 
placed  the  large  sheet  of  white  paper  in  order,  and  slipped  the 
pen  into  the  king's  hand. 

"  What  shall  I  write  ?  "  asked  the  king,  who,  by  the  exer- 
tion of  his  night  excursion,  and  of  his  anger  and  vexation,  be- 
gan at  length  to  be  exhausted. 

"  An  order  for  the  queen's  imprisonment,  sire." 

The  king  wrote.  Earl  Douglas  stood  behind  him,  with 
eager  attention,  in  breathless  expectation,  his  look  steadily 
fixed  on  the  paper  over  which  the  king's  hand,  white,  fleshy, 
and  sparkling  with  diamonds,  glided  along  in  hasty  char- 
acters. 

He  had  at  length  reached  his  goal.  When  at  last  he  should 
hold  in  his  hand  the  paper  which  the  king  was  then  writing — 
when  he  had  induced  Henry  to  return  to  his  apartments  before 
the  imprisonment  of  the  queen  had  taken  place — then  was  he 
victorious.  Not  that  woman  there  would  he  then  imprison  ; 
but,  with  the  warrant  in  his  hand,  he  would  go  to  the  real 
queen,  and  take  her  to  the  Tower. 

Once  in  the  Tower,  the  queen  could  no  longer  defend  her- 
self ;  for  the  king  would  see  her  no  more  ;  and  if  before  the 
Parliament  she  protested  her  innocence  in  ever  so  sacred  oaths, 
still  the  king's  testimony  must  convict  her ;  for  he  had  himself 
surprised  her  with  her  paramour. 

No,  there  was  no  escape  for  the  queen.  She  had  once 
succeeded  in  clearing  herself  of  an  accusation,  and  proving  her 
innocence,  by  a  rebutting  alibi.  But  this  time  she  was  irre- 
trievably lost,  and  no  alibi  could  deliver  her. 

The  king  completed  his  work  and  arose,  whilst  Douglas, 
at  his  command,  was  employed  in  setting  the  king's  seal  to  tho 
fatal  paper. 

From  the  hall  was  heard  a  slight  noise,  as  though  some 
person  was  cautiously  moving  about  there. 


HENRY   Vm.    AND  HIS    COTJKT.  329 

Earl  Douglas  did  not  notice  it ;  he  was  just  in  the  act  of 
pressing  the  signet  hard  on  the  melted  sealing-wax. 

The  king  heard  it,  and  supposed  that  it  was  Geraldine,  and 
that  she  was  just  waking  from  her  swoon  and  rising. 

lie  stepped  to  the  door  of  the  hall,  and  looked  toward 
the  place  where  she  was  lying.  But  no— she  had  not  yet 
risen ;  she  still  lay  stretched  at  full  length  on  the  floor. 

"  She  has  come  to  ;  but  she  still  pretends  to  be  in  a  swoon," 
thought  the  king ;  and  he  turned  to  Douglas. 

"  We  are  done,"  said  he  ;  the  "  warrant  for  imprisonment  is 
prepared,  and  the  sentence  of  the  adulterous  queen  is  spoken. 
We  have  done  with  her  forever ;  and  never  shall  she  again 
behold  our  face,  or  again  hear  our  voice.  She  is  sentenced 
and.  damned,  and  the  royal  mercy  has  nothing  more  to  do 
with  this  sinner.  A  curse  on  the  adulteress !  A  curse  on 
tne  shameless  woman  who  deceived  her  husband,  and  gave  her- 
self up  to  a  traitorous  paramour !  Woe  to  her,  and  may 
shame  and  disgrace  forever  mark  her  name,  which — " 

Suddenly  the  king  stopped  and  listened.  The  noise  that 
he  had  heard  just  before  was  now  repeated  louder  and  quicker ; 
it  came  nearer  and  nearer. 

And  now  the  door  opened  and  a  figure  entered — a  figure 
which  made  the  king  stare  with  astonishment  and  admiration. 
It  came  nearer  and  nearer,  light,  graceful,  and  with  the  fresh- 
ness of  youth  ;  a  gold-brocade  dress  enveloped  it ;  a  diadem 
of  diamonds  sparkled  ou  the  brow  ;  and  brighter  yet  than  the 
diamonds  beamed  the  eyes. 

No,  the  king  was  not  mistaken.  It  was  the  queen.  She 
w;is  standing  bcf'oiv  liini — and  yet  she  still  lay  motionless  and 
stiff  upon  the  floor  yonder. 

The  king  uttered  a  cry,  and,  turning  pale,  reeled  a  step 
backward. 

"  The  queen  !  "  exclaimed  Douglas,  in  terror ;  and  he  trem- 
bled so  violently  that  the  paper  in  his  hand  rattled  and  flut- 
tered. 

"  Yes,  the  queen  ! "  said  Catharine,  with  a  haughty  smile. 


330  HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

"  The  queen,  who  comes  to  scold  her  husband,  that,  contrary 
to  his  physician's  orders,  he  still  refrains  from  his  slumbers  at 
so  late  an  hour  of  the  night." 

"  And  the  fool !  "  said  John  Heywood,  as  with  humorous 
pathos  he  stepped  forward  from  behind  the  queen — "  the 
fool,  who  comes  to  ask  Earl  Douglas  how  he  dared  deprive  • 
John  Heywood  of  his  office,  and  usurp  the  place  of  king's  fool 
to  Henry,  and  deceive  his  most  gracious  majesty  with  all  man- 
ner of  silly  pranks  and  carnival  tricks. " 

"  And  who" — asked  the  king,  in  a  voice  quivering  with 
rage,  fastening  his  flashing  looks  on  Douglas  with  an  annihilat- 
ing expression — "  who,  then,  is  that  woman  there  ?  Who  has 
dared  with  such  cursed  mummery  to  deceive  the  king,  and  ca- 
lumniate the  queen  ?  " 

"  Sire,"  said  Earl  Douglas,  who  very  well  knew  that  his 
future  and  that  of  his  daughter  depended  on  the  present  mo- 
ment, and  whom  this  consciousness  had  speedily  restored  to 
his  self-possession  and  calmness — "  sire,  I  beseech  your  ma- 
jesty for  a  moment  of  private  explanation ;  and  I  shall  be 
entirely  successful  in  vindicating  myself." 

"  Do  not  grant  it  him,  brother  Henry,"  paid  John  Hey- 
wood ;  "  he  is  a  dangerous  juggler ;  and  who  knows  whether 
he  may  not  yet,  in  his  private  conversation,  convince  you  that 
he  is  king,  and  you  nothing  more  than  his  lickspittle,  fawn- 
ing, hypocritical  servant  Earl  Archibald  Douglas." 

"  My  lord  and  husband,  I  beg  you  to  hear  the  earl's  jus 
tification,"  said  Catharine,  as  she  extended  her  hand  to  the 
king  with  a  bewitching  smile.  "  It  would  be  cruel  to  condemn 
him  unheard." 

"  I  will  hear  him,  but  it  shall  be  done  in  your  presence, 
Kate,  and  you  yourself  shall  decide  whether  or  not  his  justifi 
cation  is  sufficient." 

"  No  indeed,  my  husband  ;  let  me  remaiu  an  entire  stran- 
ger to  this  night's  conspiracy,  so  that  spite  and  anger  may  not 
fill  my  heart  and  rob  me  of  the  serene  confidence  which  I 
need,  to  be  able  to  walk  on  at  your  side  happy  and  smiling  in 
the  midst  of  my  enemies." 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET.  331 

"  You  are  right,  Kate,"  said  the  king,  thoughtfully.  u  You 
have  many  enemies  at  our  court ;  and  we  have  to  accuse  our- 
selves that  we  have  not  always  succeeded  in  stopping  our  ear 
to  their  malicious  whisperings,  and  in  keeping  ourselves  pure 
from  the  poisonous  breath  of  their  calumny.  Our  heart  is  still 
too  artless,  and  we  cannot  even  yet  comprehend  that  men  are 
a  disgusting,  corrupt  race,  which  one  should  tread  beneath  his 
feet,  but  never  take  to  his  heart.  Come,  Earl  Douglas,  I  will 
hear  you  ;  but  woe  to  you,  if  you  are  unable  to  justify  yourself!" 

He  retired  to  the  embrasure  of  the  large  window  of  the 
boudoir.  Earl  Douglas  followed  him  thither,  and  let  the 
heavy  velvet  curtain  drop  behind  them, 

"  Sire,"  said  he,  hardily  and  resolutely, "  the  question  now  is 
this  :  Whose  head  would  you  rather  give  over  to  the  executioner, 
mine  or  the  Earl  of  Surrey's?  You  have  the  choice  between 
the  two.  You  arc  aware  that  I  have  ventured  for  a  moment  to 
deceive  you.  Well,  send  me  to  the  Tower  then,  and  set  free  the 
noble  Henry  Howard,  that  he  may  henceforth  disturb  your 
sleep  and  poison  your  days ;  that  he  may  further  court  the 
love  of  the  people,  and  perhaps  some  day  rob  your  son  of  the 
throne  that  belongs  to  him.  Here  is  my  head,  sire  ;  it  is  for- 
feited to  the  headsman's  axe,  and  Earl  Surrey  is  free  !  " 

"  No,  he  is  not  free,  and  never  shall  be  !  "  said  the  king 
grinding  his  teeth. 

"  Then,  my  king.  I  am  justified ;  and  instead  of  being 
angry  with  me,  you  will  thank  me?  It  is  true  I  have  played 
a,  hazardous  game,  but  I  did  so  in  the  service  of  my  king.  I 
did  it  because  I  loved  him,  and  because  I  read  on  your  lofty 
clouded  brow  the  thoughts  that  begirt  wilh  darkness  my  mas- 
ter's soul,  and  disturbed  the  sleep  of  his  nights.  You  wanted 
1o  have  Henry  Howard  in  your  power;  and  this  crafty  and 
hypocritical  cnrl  knew  how  to  conceal  his  guilt  so  securely 
iiiidt-r  the  mask  of  virtue  and  loftiness  of  soul  1  But  I  knew 
him,  and  behind  this  mask  I  had  seen  his  face  distorted  with 
passion  and  crime.  I  wanted  to  unmask  him  ;  but  for  this,  it 
was  necessary  that  I  should  deceive  first  him,  and  then  for  the 


332  HENBY   Vin.    AND   HIS    COURT. 

hour  even  yourself.  I  knew  that  he  burned  with  an  adulter- 
ous love  for  the  queen,  and  I  wanted  to  avail  myself  of  the 
madness  of  this  passion,  in  order  to  bring  him  surely  and  un- 
avoidably to  a  richly-deserved  punishment.  But  I  would  not 
draw  the  pure  and  exalted  person  of  the  queen  into  this  net 
with  which  we  wanted  to  surround  Earl  Surrey.  I  was 
obliged,  then,  to  seek  a  substitute  for  her ;  and  I  did  so. 
There  was  at  your  court  a  woman  whose  whole  heart  belongs, 
after  God,  to  the  king  alone ;  and  who  so  much  adores  him, 
that  she  would  be  ready  at  any  hour  gladly  to  sacrifice  for  the 
king,  her  heart's  blood,  her  whole  being — ay,  if  need  be,  even 
her  honor  itself — a  woman,  sire,  who  lives  by  your  smile,  and 
worships  you  as  her  redeemer  and  savior — a  woman  whom 
you  might,  as  you  pleased,  make  a  saint  or  a  strumpet ;  and 
.  who,  to  please  you,  would  be  a  shameless  Phryne  or  a  chaste 
veiled  nun." 

"  Tell  me  her  name,  Douglas,"  said  the  king,  "  tell 
me  it !  It  is  a  rare  and  precious  stroke  of  fortune  to  be  so 
loved  ;  and  it  would  be  a  sin  not  to  want  to  enjoy  this  good 
fortune." 

"  Sire,  I  will  tell  you  her  name  when  you  have  first  for- 
given me,"  said  Douglas,  whose  heart  leaped  for  joy,  and  who 
well  understood  that  the  king's  anger  was  already  mollified 
and  the  danger  now  almost  overcome.  "  I  said  to  this  wo- 
man :  '  You  are  to  do  the  king  a  great  service  ;  you  are  to  de- 
liver him  from  a  powerful  and  dangerous  foe  !  You  are  to 
save  him  from  Henry  Howard  !'  '  Tell  me  what  I  must  do  ! ' 
cried  she,  her  looks  beaming  with  joy.  '  Henry  Howard  loves 
the  queen.  You  must  be  the  queen  to  him.  You  must  re- 
ceive his  letters,  and  answer  them  in  the  queen's  name.  You 
must  grant  him  interviews  by  night,  and,  favored  by  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night,  make  him  believe  that  it  is  the  queen  whom 
he  holds  in  his  arms.  He  must  be  convinced  that  the  queen 
is  his  lady-love  ;  and  in  his  thoughts,  as  in  his  deeds,  he  must 
be  placed  before  the  king  as  a  traitor  and  criminal  whose  head 
is  forfeited  to  the  headsman's  axe.  One  day  we  will  let  the 


HENEY   Vm.   AND   HIS   COUKT.  333 


king  be  a  witness  of  a  meeting  that  Henry  Howard  believes  he 
has  with  the  queen  ;  it  will  then  be  in  his  power  to  punish 
his  enemy  for  his  criminal  passion,  which  is  worthy  of  death  !  ' 
And  as  I  thus  spoke  to  the  woman,  sire,  she  said  with  a  sad 
smile  :  '  It  is  a  disgraceful  and  dishonorable  part  that  you  as- 
sign me  ;  but  I  undertake  it,  for  you  say  I  may  thereby  ren- 
der a  service  to  the  king.  I  shall  disgrace  myself  for  him  ; 
but  he  will  perhaps  bestow  upon  me  in  return  a  gracious 
smile  ;  and  then  I  shall  be  abundantly  rewarded.'  " 

"But  this  woman  is  an  angel!"  cried  the  king,  ardently. 
—  "  an  angel  whom  we  should  kneel  to  and  adore.  Tell  me 
her  name,  Douglas  !  " 

"  Sire,  as  soon  as  you  have  forgiven  me  !  You  know  now 
all  my  guilt  and  all  my  crime.  For,  as  I  bade  that  noble 
woman,  so  it  came  to  pass,  and  Henry  Howard  has  gone  to 
the  Tower  in  the  firm  belief  that  it  was  the  queen  whom  he 
just  now  held  in  his  arms." 

"  But  why  did  you  leave  me  in  this  belief,  Douglas  ?  Why 
did  you  fill  my  heart  with  wrath  against  the  noble  and  virtu- 
ous queen  also?" 

"  Sire,  I  dared  not  reveal  the  deception  to  you  before  you 
had  sentenced  Surrey,  for  your  noble  and  just  moral  sense 
would  have  been  reluctant  to  punish  him  on  account  of  a 
crime  that  he  had  not  committed  ;  and  in  your  first  wrath  you 
would  have  also  blamed  this  noble  woman  who  has  sacrificed 
herself  for  her  king." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  the  king,  "  I  should  have  misjudged  this 
noble  woman,  and,  instead  of  thanking  her,  I  should  have  de- 
stroyed her." 

"  Therefore,  my  king,  I  quietly  allowed  you  to  make  out 
an  order  for  the  queen's  incarceration.  But  you  remember 
well,  sire,  I  begged  you  to  return  to  your  apartments  before 
the  (juecn  was  arrested.  Well,  now,  there  I  should  have  dis- 
closed to  you  the  whole  secret,  which  I  could  not  tell  you  in 
the  presence  of  that  woman.  For  she  would  die  of  shame  if 
she  suspected  that  you  knew  of  her  love  for  the  king,  so  pure 
and  self-sacrificing,  and  cherished  in  such  heroic  silence." 


334  HENRY   Yin.   AJSTD   HIS   COURT. 

"  She  shall  never  know  it,  Douglas  !  But  now  at  length 
satisfy  my  desire.  Tell  me  her  name." 

"  Sire,  you  have  forgiven  me,  then?  You  are  no  longer 
angry  with  me  that  I  dared  to  deceive  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  no  longer  angry  with  you,  Douglas  ;  for  you  have 
acted  rightly.  The  plan,  which  you  have  contrived  and  car- 
ried out  with  such  happy  results,  was  as  crafty  as  it  was 
daring." 

.  "  I  thank  you,  sire ;  and  I  will  now  tell  you  the  name. 
That  woman,  sire,  who  at  my  wish  gave  herself  up  a  sacrifice 
to  this  adulterous  earl,  who  endured  his  kisses,  his  embraces, 
liis  vows  of  love,  in  order  to  render  a  service  to  her  king — 
that  woman  was  my  daughter,  Lady  Jane  Douglas  ! " 

"Lady  Jane!"  cried  the  king.  "No,  no,  this  is  a  new 
deception.  That  haughty,  chaste,  and  unapproachable  Lady 
Jane — that  wonderfully  beautiful  marble  statue  really  has  then 
a  heart  in  her  breast,  and  that  heart  belongs  to  me?  Lady 
Jane,  the  pure  and  chaste  virgin,  has  made  for  me  this  pro- 
digious sacrifice,  of  receiving  this  hated  Surrey  as  her  lover, 
in  order,  like  a  second  Delilah,  to  deliver  him  into  my  hand? 
No,  Douglas,  you  are  lying  to  me.  Lady  Jane  has  not  done 
that!" 

"  May  it  please  your  majesty  to  go  yourself  and  take  a 
look  at  that  fainting  woman,  who  was  to  Henry  Howard  the 
queen." 

The  king  did  not  reply  to  him ;  but  he  drew  back  the 
curtain  and  reentered  the  cabinet,  in  which  the  queen  was 
waiting  with  John  Heywood. 

Henry  did  not  notice  them.  With  youthful  precipitation 
he  crossed  the  cabinet  and  the  hall.  Now  he  stood  by  the 
figure  of  Geraldine  still  lying  on  the  floor. 

She  was  no  longer  in  a  swoon.  She  had  long  since  re- 
gained her  consciousness  ;  and  terrible  were  the  agonies  and 
tortures  that  rent  her  heart.  Henry  Howard  had  incurred  the 
penalty  of  the  headman's  axe,  and  it  was  she  that  had  betrayed 
him. 


HENBY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COURT.  335 

But  her  father  had  sworn  to  her  that  she  should  save  her 
lover. 

She  durst  not  die  then.  She  must  live  to  deliver  Henry 
Howard. 

There  were  burning,  as  it  were,  the  fires  of  hell  in  her  poor 
heart ;  but  she  was  not  at  liberty  to  heed  these  pains.  She 
could  not  think  of  herself — only  of  him — of  Henry  Howard, 
whom  she  must  deliver,  whom  she  must  save  from  an  igno- 
minious death. 

For  him  she  sent  up  her  fervent  prayers  to  God  ;  for  him 
her  heart  trembled  with  anxiety  and  agony,  as  the  king  now 
advanced  to  her,  and,  bending  down,  gazed  into  her  eyes  with 
a  strange  expression,  at  once  scrutinizing  and  smiling. 

"  Lady  Jane,"  said  he  then,  as  he  presented  her  his  hand, 
"arise  from  the  ground  and  allow  your  king  to  express  to  you 
his  thanks  for  your  sublime  and  wonderful  sacrifice  !  Verily, 
it  is  a  fair  lot  to  be  a  king ;  for  then  one  has  at  least  the 
power  of  punishing  traitors,  and  of  rewarding  those  that  serve 
us.  I  have  to-day  done  the  one,  and  I  will  not  neglect  to  do 
the  other  also.  Stand  up,  then,  Lady  Jane ;  it  does  not  be- 
come you  to  lie  on  your  knees  before  me." 

"  Oh,  let  me  kneel,  my  king,"  said  she,  passionately  ;  "  let 
me  beseech  you  for  mercy,  for  pity  !  Have  compassion,  King 
Henry — compassion  on  the  anxiety  and  agony  which  I  endure. 
It  is  not  possible  that  this  is  all  a  reality  !  that  this  juggling 
is  to  be  changed  into  such  terrible  earnest !  Tell  me,  King 
Henry — I  conjure  you  by  the  agonies  which  I  suffer  for  your 
sake — tell  me,  what  will  you  do  with  Henry  Howard?  Why 
have  you  sent  him  to  the  Tower  ?  " 

"  To  punish  the  traitor  as  ho  deserves,"  said  the  king,  as 
he  cast  a  dark  and  angry  look  across  at  Douglas,  who  had 
also  approached  his  daughter,  and  was  now  standing  close 
by  her. 

Lady  June  uttered  a  heart-rending  cry,  and  sank  down 
again,  senseless  and  completely  exhausted. 

The  king  frowned.      "It  is  possible,"  said  he — "and  I 


336  IIEJSKY    VIII.    AND   HIS    COUKT. 

almost  believe  it — that  I  have  been  deceived  in  many  ways 
this  eveniugj  and  that  now  again  my  guilelessness  has  been 
played  upon  in  order  to  impose  upon  me  a  charming  story. 
However,  I  have  given  my  word  to  pardon  ;  and  it  shall  not 
be  said  that  Henry  the  Eighth,  who  calls  himself  God's  vice- 
gerent, has  ever  broken  his  word  ;  nor  even  that  he  has  pun- 
ished those  whom  he  has  assured  of  exemption  from  punish- 
ment. My  Lord  Douglas,  I  will  fulfil  my  promise.  I  forgive 
you." 

He  extended  his  hand  to  Douglas,  who  kissed  it  fervently. 
The  king  bent  down  closer  to  him.  "  Douglas,"  whispered 
he,  "  you  are  as  cunning  as  a  serpent ;  and  I  now  see  through 
your  artfully-woven  web !  You  wanted  to  destroy  Surrey, 
but  the  queen  was  to  sink  into  the  abyss  with  him.  Because 
I  am  indebted  to  you  for  Surrey,  I  forgive  you  what  you  have 
done  to  the  queen.  But  take  heed  to  yourself,  take  heed  that 
I  do  not  meet  you  again  on  the  same-  track ;  do  not  ever  try 
again,  by  a  look,  a  word,  ay,  even  by  a  smile,  to  cast  suspi- 
cion on  the  queen.  The  slightest  attempt  would  cost  you  your 
life  !  That  I  swear  to  you  by  the  holy  mother  of  God  ;  and 
you  know  that  I  have  never  yet  broken  that  oath.  As  regards 
Lady  Jane,  we  do  not  want  to  consider  that  she  has  misused 
the  name  of  our  illustrious  and  virtuous  consort  in  order  to 
draw  this  lustful  and  adulterous  earl  into  the  net  whicli  you 
had  set  for  him  ;  she  obeyed  your  orders,  Douglas ;  and  we 
will  not  now  decide  what  other  motives  besides  have  urged  her 
to  this  deed.  She  may  settle  that  with  God  and  her  own  con- 
science, and  it  does  not  behoove  us  to  decide  about  it." 

"  But  it  behooves  me,  perhaps,  my  husband,  to  ask  by  what 
right  Lady  Jane  has  dared  to  appear  here  in  this  attire,  and  to 
present  to  a  certain  degree  a  counterfeit  of  her  queen  ?  "  asked 
Catharine  in  a  sharp  tone.  "  I  may  well  be  allowed  to  ask 
what  has  made  my  maid  of  honor,  who  left  the  festive  hull 
sick,  now  all  at  once  so  well  that  she  goes  roaming  about  the 
castle  in  the  night  time,  and  in  a  dress  which  seems  likely  to 
be  mistaken  for  mine?  Sire,  was  this  dress  perchance  a  craf- 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  337 

tily-devised  stratagem,  in  order  to  really  confound  us  with  one 
another  ?  You  are  silent,  my  lord  and  king.  It  is  true,  then, 
they  have  wanted  to  carry  out  a  terrible  plot  against  me  ;  and, 
without  the  assistance  of  my  faithful  and  honest  friend,  John 
Heywood,  who  brought  me  here,  I  should  without  doubt  be 
now  condemned  and  lost,  as  the  Earl  of  Surrey  is." 

"  Ah,  John,  it  was  you  then  that  brought  a  little  light  into 
this  darkness?"  cried  the  king,  with  a  cheerful  laugh,  as  he 
laid  his  hand  on  Heywood's  shoulder.  Now,  verily,  what 
the  wise  and  prudent  did  not  see,  that  the  fool  has  seen 
througli !  " 

"  King  Henry  of  England,"  said  John  Heywood,  solemnly* 
"  many  call  themselves  wise,  and  yet  they  are  fools  ;  and  many 
assume  the  mask  of  folly,  because  fools  are  allowed  to  be 
wise." 

"  Kate,"  said  the  king,  "  you  are  right ;  this  was  a  bad 
night  for  you,  but  God  and  the  fool  have  saved  you  and  me. 
We  will  both  be  thankful  for  it.  But  it  is  well  if  you  do  as 
you  before  wished,  and  ask  and  inquire  nothing  more  concern- 
ing the  mysteries  of  this  night.  It  was  brave  in  you  to  come 
here,  and  I  will  be  mindful  of  it.  Come,  my  little  queen, 
give  me  your  arm  and  conduct  me  to  my  apartments.  I  tell 
you,  child,  it  gives  me  joy  to  be  able  to  lean  on  your  arm,  and 
see  your  dear  sprightly  face  blanched  by  no  fear  or  terrors  of 
conscience.  Come,  Kate,  you  alone  shall  lead  me,  and  to  you 
alone  will  I  trust  myself." 

*'  Sire,  you  are  too  heavy  for  the  queen,"  said  the  fool,  as 
he  put  his  neck  under  the  other  arm.  "  Let  mo  share  with 
her  the  burden  of  royalty." 

"•  But  before  we  go,"  said  Catharine,  "  I  have,  my  hus- 
band, one  request.  Will  you  grant  it  ?  " 

"  I  will  grant  you  every  thing  that  you  may  ask,  provided 
you  will  mil  rrnunv  im:  to  send  you  to  the  Tower." 

"  Sirr,  1  wish  to  dismiss  my  maid  of  honor,  Lady  Jane 
Douglas,  from  my  service — that  is  till,"  said  the  queen,  as  IK  r 
eyes  glanced  with  an  expression  of  contempt,  and  yet  at  the 
15 


338  HENRY  vm.  Am>  HIS  COURT. 

same  time  of  pain,  at  the  form  of  her  friend  of  other  days,  pros- 
trate on  the  floor. 

"  She  is  dismissed  !  "  said  the  king.  "  You  will  choose 
another  maid  of  honor  to-morrow.  Come,  Kate  !  " 

And  the  king,  supported  by  his  consort  and  John  Hey- 
wood,  left  the  room  with  slow  and  heavy  steps. 

Earl  Douglas  watched  them  with  a  sullen,  hateful  expres- 
sion. As  the  door  closed  after  them  he  raised  his  arm  threat- 
eningly toward  heaven,  and  his  tremhling  lips  jittered  a  fierce 
curse  and  execration. 

"  Vanquished  !  vanquished  again  ! "  muttered  he,  gnash- 
ing his  teeth.  "  Humbled  by  this  woman  whom  I  hate,  and 
whom  I  will  yet  destroy  !  Yes,  she  has  conquered  this  time  ; 
but  we  will  commence  the  struggle  anew,  and  our  envenomed 
weapon  shall  nevertheless  strike  her  at  last !  " 

Suddenly  he  felt  a  hand  laid  heavily  on  his  shoulder,  and  a 
pair  of  glaring,  flaming  eyes  gazed  at  him. 

"  Father,"  said  Lady  Jane,  as  she  threw  her  right  hand 
threateningly  toward  heaven — "  father,  as  true  as  there  is  a 
God  above  us,  I  will  accuse  you  yourself  to  the  king  as  a  trai- 
tor— I  will  betray  to  him  all  your  accursed  plots — if  you  do 
not  help  me  to  deliver  Henry  Howard !" 

Her  father  looked  with  an  expression  almost  melancholy 
in  her  face,  painfully  convulsed  and  pale  as  marble.  "  I  will 
help  you  !  "  said  he.  "  I  will  do  it,  if  you  will  help  me  also, 
and  further  my  plans." 

"  Oh,  only  save  Henry  Howard,  and  I  will  sign  myself 
away  to  the  devil  with  my  heart's  blood !  "  said  Jane  Douglas, 
with  a  horrible  smile.  k'  Save  his  life,  or,  if  you  have  not  the 
power  to  do  that,  then  at  least  procure  me  the  happiness  of 
being  able  to  die  with  him." 


HENRY  Vm.   AND   HIS   COURT.  339 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

UNDECEIVED. 

PARLIAMENT,  which  had  not  for  a  long  time  now  ventured 
to  offer  any  further  opposition  to  the  king's  will — Parliament 
had  acquiesced  in  his  decree.  It  had  accused  Earl  Surrey  of 
high-treason ;  and,  on  the  sole  testimony  of  his  mother  and 
his  sister,  he  had  been  declared  guilty  of  Use  majeste  and 
high-treason.  A  few  words  of  discontent  at  his  removal  from 
office,  some  complaining  remarks  about  the  numerous  execu- 
tions that  drenched  England's  soil  with  blood — that  was  all 
that  the  Duchess  of  Richmond  had  been  able  to  bring  against 
him.  That  he,  like  his  father,  bore  the  arms  of  the  Kings  of 
England — that  was  the  only  evidence  of  high-treason  of  which 
his  mother  the  Duchess  of  Norfolk  could  charge  him.* 

These  accusations  were  of  so  trivial  a  character,  that  the 
Parliament  well  knew  they  were  not  the  ground  of  his  arrest, 
but  only  a  pretext  for  it — only  a  pretext,  by  which  the  king 
said  to  his  pliant  and  trembling  Parliament :  "  This  man  is 
innocent ;  but  1  will  that  you  condemn  him,  and  therefore 
you  will  account  the  accusation  sufficient." 

Parliament  had  dot  the  courage  to  oppose  the  king's  will. 
These  members  of  Parliament  were  nothing  more  than  a  flock 
of  sheep,  who,  in  trembling  dread  of  the  sharp  teeth  of  the  dog, 
go  straight  along  the  path  which  the  dog  shows  them. 

The  king  wanted  them  to  condemn  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  and 
they  condemned  him. 

They  summoned  him  before  their  judgment-seat,  and  it  was 
in  vain  that  he  proved  his  innocence  in  a  speech  spirited  and 
glowing  with  eloquence.  These  noble  members  of  Parliament 
would  not  see  that  he  was  innocent. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  there  were  a  few  who  were  ashamed  to 
bow  their  heads  so  unreservedly  beneath  the  king's  sceptre, 

•  Tytlcr,  page  409.    Burnct,  vol.  I,  page  9.V 


340  HENEY   Vm.    AKD    HIS   COURT. 

which  dripped  with  blood  like  a  headsman's  axe.  There  were 
still  a  few  to  whom  the  accusation  appeared  insufficient ;  but 
they  were  outvoted  ;  and  in  order  to  give  Parliament  a  warning 
example,  the  king,  on  the  very  same  day,  had  these  obstinate 
ones  arrested  and  accused  of  some  pretended  crime.  For  this 
people,  enslaved  by  the  king's  cruelty  and  savage  barbarity, 
were  already  so  degenerate  and  debased  in  se  If-consciousness, 
that  men  were  always  and  without  trouble  found,  who,  in  or- 
der to  please  the  king  and  his  bloodthirstiness  and  sanctimo- 
nious hypocrisy,  degraded  themselves  to  informers,  and  accused 
of  crime  those  whom  the  king's  dark  frown  had  indicated  to 
them  as  offenders. 

'So  Parliament  had  doomed  the  Earl  of  Surrey  to  die,  and 
the  king  had  signed  his  death-warrant. 

Early  next  morning  he  was  to  be  executed ;  and  in  the 
Tower-yard  the  workmen  were  already  busy  in  erecting  the 
scaffold  on  which  the  rfoble  earl  was  to  be  beheaded. 

Henry  Howard  was  alone  in  his  cell.  He  had  done  with 
life  and  earthly  things.  He  had  set  his  house  in  order  and 
made  his  will ;  he  had  written  to  his  mother  and  sister,  and 
forgiven  them  for  their  treachery  and  accusation  ;  he  had  ad- 
dressed a  letter  to  his  father,  in  which  he  exhorted  him,  in 
words  as  nob'le  as  they  were  touching,  to  steadfastness  and 
.calmness,  and  bade  him  not  to  weep  for  him,  for  death  was  his 
desire,  and  the  grave  the  only  refuge  for  which  he  longed. 

He  had  then,  as  we  have  said,  done  with  life ;  and  earthly 
things  no  longer  disturbed  him.  He  felt  no  regret  and  no  fear. 
Life  had  left  him  nothing  more  to  wish  ;  and  he  almost  thanked 
the  king  that  he  would  so  soon  deliver  him  from  the  burden 
of  existence. 

The  future  had  nothing  more  to  offer  him  ;  why  then  should 
he  desire  it  ?  Why  long  for  a  life  which  could  be  for  him  now 
only  an  isolated,  desolate,  and  gloomy  one?  For  Geraldine 
was  lost  to  him  !  He  knew  not  her  fate ;  and  no  tidings  of 
her  had  penetrated  to  him  through  the  solitnry  prison  walls 
Did  the  queen  still  live?  Or  had  the  king  in  his  wrath  mur- 


HENBT   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  341 

dered  her  on  that  very  night  when  Henry  was  carried  to  the 
Tower,  and  his  last  look  beheld  his  beloved  lying  at  her  hus- 
band's feet,  swooning  and  rigid. 

What  had  become  of  the  queen — of  Henry  Howard's  be- 
loved Geraldine  ?  He  knew  nothing  of  her.  He  had  hoped  in 
vain  for  some  note,  some  message  from  her ;  but  he  had  not 
dared  to  ask  any  one  as  to  her  fate.  Perhaps  the  king  desisted 
from  punishing  her  likewise.  Perhaps  his  murderous  inclina- 
tion had  been  satisfied  by  putting  Henry  Howard  to  death ; 
and  Catharine  escaped  the  scaffold.  It  might,  therefore,  have 
been  ruinous  to  her,  had  he,  the  condemned,  inquired  after  her. 
Or,  if  she  had  gone"  before  him,  then  he  was  certain  of  finding 
her  again,  and  of  being  united  with  her  forevermore  beyond 
the  grave. 

He  believed  in  a  hereafter,  for  he  loved ;  and  death  did  not 
affright  him,  for  after  death  came  the  reunion  with  her,  with 
Geraldine,  who  either  was  already  waiting  for  him  there  above, 
or  would  soon  follow  him. 

Life  had  nothing  more  to  offer  him.  Death  united  him  to 
his  beloved.  He  hailed  death  -as  his  friend  and  savior,  as 
the  priest  who  was  to  unite  him  to  his  Geraldine. 

He  heard  the  great  Tower  clock  of  the  prison  which  with 
threatening  stroke  made  known  the  hour ;  and  each  passing 
hour  he  hailed  with  a  joyous  throb  of  the  heart.  The  evening 
came  and  deep  night  descended  upon  him — the  last  night 
that  was  allotted  to  him — the  last  night  that  separated  him 
from  his  Geraldine. 

The  turnkey  opened  the  door  to  bring  the  earl  a  light,  and 
to  ask  whether  he  hud  any  orders  to  give.  Heretofore  it  had 
been  the  king's  special  command  not  to  allow  him  a  light  in  big 
cell ;  and  he  had  spent  these  six  long  evenings  and  nights  of 
his  imprisonment  in  darkness.  But  to-day  they  were  willing 
to  give  him  a  light ;  to-day  they  were  willing  to  allow  him 
every  thing  that  he  might  still  desire.  The  life  which  he  must 
leave  in  a  few  hours  was  to  bo  once  more  adorned  for  him 
with  all  charms  and  enjoyments  which  he  might  ask  for.  Hen- 


342  HENKY   Yin.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

ry  Howard  had  but  to  wish,  and  the  jailer  was  ready  to  fur- 
nish him  every  thing. 

But  Henry  Howard  wished  for  nothing ;  he  demanded  noth- 
ing, save  that  they  would  leave  him  alone — save  that  they 
would  remove  from  his  prison  this  light  which  dazzled  him, 
and  which  opposed  to  his  enrapturing  dreams  the  disenchanting 
reality. 

The  king,  who  had  wanted  to  impose  a  special  punishment 
in  condemning  him  to  darkness — the  king  had,  contrary  to  his 
intention,  become  thereby  his  benefactor.  For  with  darkness 
came  dreams  and  fantasies.  With  the  darkness  came  Geral- 
dine. 

When  night  and  silence  were  all  around  him,  then  there 
was  light  within ;  and  an  enchanting  whisper  and  a  sweet, 
enticing  voice  resounded  within  him.  The  gates  of  his  prison 
sprang  open,  and  on  the  wings  of  thought  Henry  Howard 
soared  away  from  that  dismal  and  desolate  place.  On  the 
wings  of  thought  he  came  to  her — to  his  Geraldine. 

Again  she  was  by  him,  in  the  large,  silent  halL  Again 
night  Iny  upon  them,  like  a  veil  concealing,  blessing,  and  envel- 
oping them  ;  and  threw  its  protection  over  their  embraces  and 
their  kisses.  Solitude  allowed  him  to  hear  again  the  dear  mu- 
sic of  her  voice,  which  sang  for  him  so  enchanting  a  melody  of 
love  and  ecstasy. 

Henry  Howard  must  be  alone,  so  that  he  can  hear  his 
Geraldine.  Deep  darkness  must  surround  him,  so  that  his  Ger- 
aldine can  come  to  him. 

He  demanded,  therefore,  for  his  last  night,  nothing  fur- 
ther than  to  be  left  alone,  and  without  a  light.  The  jailer  ex- 
tinguished the  light,  and  left  the  cell.  But  he  did  not  shove 
the  great  iron  bolt  across  the  door.  He  did  not  put  the  large 
padlock  on  it,  but  he  only  left  the  door  slightly  ajar,  and  did 
not  lock  it  at  all. 

Henry  Howard  took  no  notice  of  this.  What  cared  he, 
whether  this  gate  was  locked  or  no — he  who  no  longer  had  a 
desire  for  life  and  freedom  ! 


HENEY   Tin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  343 

He  leaned  back  on  his  seat,  and  dreamed  with  eyes  open. 
There  below  in  the  yard  they  were  working  on  the  scaffold 
which  Henry  Howard  was  to  ascend  as  soon  as  day  dawned. 
The  dull  monotony  of  the  strokes  of  the  hammers  fell  on  his 
ear.  Now  and  then  the  torches,  which  lighted  the  workmen 
at  their  melancholy  task,  allowed  to  shiue  up  into  his  cell  a 
pale  glimmer  of  light,  which  danced  on  the  walls  in  ghost-like 
shapes. 

"  There  are  the  ghosts  of  all  those  whom  Henry  has  put 
to  death/'  thought  Henry  Howard  ;  "  they  gather  around  me  ; 
like  will-o'-the-wisps,  they  dance  with  me  the  dance  of  death, 
and  in  a  few  hours  I  shall  be  forever  theirs." 

The  dull  noise  of  hammers  and  saws  continued  steadily  on, 
and  Henry  Howard  sank  deeper  and  deeper  in  reverie. 

He  thought,  he  felt,  and  desired  nothing  but  Geraldine. 
His  whole  soul  was  concentrated  in  that  single  thought  of  her. 
It  seemed  to  him  he  could  bid  his  spirit  see  her,  as  though  ho 
could  command  his  senses  to  perceive  her.  Yes,  she  was 
there  ;  he  felt — he  was  conscious  of  her  presence.  Again  ho 
lay  at  her  feet,  and  leaned  his  head  on  her  knee,  and  listened 
again  to  those  charming  revelations  of  her  love. 

Completely  borne  away  from  the  present,  and  from  exist- 
ence, he  saw,  he  felt,  only  her.  The  mystery  of  love  was  per- 
fected, and,  under  the  veil  of  night,  Geraliline  had  again 
winged  her  way  to  him,  and  he  to  her. 

A  happy  smile  played  about  his  lips,  which  faltered  forth 
rapturous  words  of  greeting.  Overcome  by  a  wonderful  hal- 
lucination, he  saw  his  beloved  approaching  him  ;  he  stretched 
out  his  arms  to  clasp  her ;  and  it  did  not  arouse  him  when  ho 
felt  instead  of  her  only  the  empty  air. 

"  Why  do  you  float  away  from  mo  again,  Geraldine?" 
asked  he,  in  a  low  tone.  u  Wherefore  do  you  withdraw  from 
my  arms,  to  whirl  with  the  will-o'-the-wisps  in  the  death- 
dance?  Corac,  Geraldine,  come  ;  my  soul  burns  for  you.  My 
heart  calls  you  with  its  last  faltering  throb.  Come,  Geraldine, 
oh,  come !  " 


344  HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

What  was  that  ?  It  was  as  though  the  door  were  gently 
opened,  and  the  latch  again  gently  fastened.  It  was  as 
though  a  foot  were  moving  softly  over  the  floor — as  though  the 
shape  of  a  human  form  shaded  for  a  moment  the  flickering 
light  which  danced  around  the  walls. 

Henry  Howard  saw  it  not.  : 

He  saw  naught  but  his  Geraldine,  whom  he  with  so  much 
fervency  and  longing  wished  by  his  side.  He  spread  his 
arms  ;  he  called  her  with  ah1  the  ardor,  all  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
lover. 

Now  he  uttered  a  cry  of  ecstasy.  His  prayer  of  love  was 
answered.  The  dream  had  become  a  reality.  His  arms  no 
longer  clasped  the  empty  air ;  they  pressed  to  his  breast  the 
woman  whom  he  loved,  and  for  whom  he  was  to  die.- 

He  pressed  his  lips  to  her  mouth  and  she  returned  his 
kisses.  He  threw  his  arms  around  her  form,  and  she  pressed 
him  fast,  fast  to  her  bosom. 

Was  this  a  reality  ?  Or  was  it  madness  that  was  creeping 
upon  him  and  seizing  upon  his  brain,  and  deceiving  him  with 
fantasies  so  enchanting? 

Henry  Howard  shuddered  as  he  thought  this,  and,  falling 
upon  his  knees,  he  cried  in  a  voice  trembling  with  agony  and 
love  :  "  Geraldine,  have  pity  on  me  !  Tell  me  that  this  is  no 
dream,  that  I  am  not  mad — that  you  are  really — you  are 
Geraldine — you — the  king's  consort,  whose  knees  I  now  clasp  ! 
Speak,  oh  speak,  my  Geraldine !  :* 

"  I  am  she  !  "  softly  whispered  she.  "'I  am  Geraldine — 
am  the  woman  whom  you  love,  and  to  whom  you  have  sworn 
eternal  truth  and  eternal  love  !  Henry  Howard,  my  beloved, 
I  now  remind  you  of  your  oath !  Your  life  belongs  to  me. 
This -you  have  vowed,  and  I  now  come  to  demand  of  you  that 
which  is  my  own  !  " 

"  Ay,  my  life  belongs  to  you,  Geraldine  !  But  it  is  a  mis- 
erable, melancholy  possession,  which  you  will  call  yours  only 
a  few  hours  longer." 

She  threw  her  arms  closely  around  his  neck ;  she  raised 


DENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS    COUET.  345 

him  to  her  heart ;  she  kissed  his  mouth,  his  eyes.  He  felt  her 
tears,  which  trickled  like  hot  fountains  over  his  face  ;  he 
heard  her  sighs,  which  struggled  from  her  breast  like  death- 
groans. 

"  You  must  not  die ! "  murmured  she,  amid  her  tears. 
"  No,  Henry,  you  must  live,  so  that  I  too  can  live  ;  PO  that  I 
shall  not  become  mad  from  agony  and  sorrow  for  you  !  My 
God,  my  God,  do  you  not  then  feel  how  I  love  you  ?  Know 
you  not,  then,  that  your  life  is  my  life,  and  your  death  my 
death?" 

He  leaned  his  head  on  her  shoulder,  and,  wholly  intoxi. 
cated  with  happiness,  he  scarcely  heard  what  she  was  speak- 
ing. 

She  was  again  there  !     "What  cared  he  for  all  the  rest? 

"  Geraldine,"  softly  whispered  he,  "  do  you  recollect  still 
how  we  first  met  each  other?  how  our  hearts  were  united  in 
one  throb,  how  our  lips  clung  to  each  other  in  one  kiss  ?  Geral- 
dine, my  wife,  my  loved  one,  we  then  swore  that  naught  could 
separate  us,  that  onr  love  should  survive  the  grave  !  Geraldine, 
do  you  remember  that  still?" 

"  I  remember  it,  my  Henry  !  But  you  shall  not  die  yet ; 
and  not  in  death,  but  in  life,  shall  your  love  for  me  be  proved  1 
Ay,  we  will  live,  live !  And  your  life  shall  be  my  life,  and 
where  you  arc,  there  will  I  be  also  !  Henry,  do  you  remem- 
ber that  you  vowed  this  to  me  with  a  solemn  oath  !  " 

"  I  remember  it,  but  I  cannot  keep  my  word,  my  Gerald iue  ! 
Hear  you  how  they  are  sawing  and  hammering  there  below  ? 
Know  you  what  that  indicates,  dearest?" 

u  I  know  it,  Henry  1  It  is  the  scaffold  that  they  are  build- 
ing there  below.  The  scaffold  for  you  and  me.  For  I  too 
will  die  if  you  will  not  live ;  and  the  axe  that  seeks  your  neck 
shall  find  mine  also,  if  you  wish  not  that  wo  both  live  !  " 

"  Do  I  wish  it  I     But  how  can  we,  beloved  ?  " 
"  We  can,  Henry,  we  con  !     All  is  ready  for  the  flight  1 
It  is  all  arranged,  every  thing  prepared  !      The  king's  signet- 
ring  has  opened  to  me  the  gates  of  the  prison  ;  the  oinuipo- 


346  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUBT. 

tence  o'  gold  has  Avon  over  your  jailer.  He  will  not  see  it, 
when  trro  persons  instead  of  one  leave  this  dungeon.  Unmo- 
lested aad  without  hinderance,  we  will  both  leave  the  Tower 
by  ways  known  only  to  him,  over  secret  corridors  and  stair- 
cases, and  will  go  aboard  a  boat  which  is  ready  to  take  us  to 
a  ship,  which  lies  in  the  harbor  prepared  to  sail,  and  which  as 
soon  as  ws  are  aboard  weighs  anchor  and  puts  to  sea  with  ns. 
Come,  Henry,  come  !  Lay  your  arm  in  mine,  and  let  us  leave 
this  prison !  " 

She  threw  both  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  drew  him 
forward.  He  pressed  her  fast  to  his  heart  and  whispered : 
"Yes,  come,  come,  my  beloved  !  Let  us  fly!  To  you  be- 
longs my  life,  you  alone  !  " 

He  raised  her  up  in  his  arms,  and  hastened  with  her  to 
the  door.  He  pushed  it  hastily  open  with  his  foot  and  hur- 
ried forward  down  the  corridor ;  but  having  arrived  just  at 
the  first  turn  he  reeled  back  in  horror. 

Before  the  door  were  standing  soldiers  with  shouldered 
arms.  There  stood  also  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  and  two 
servants  behind  him  with  lighted  candles. 

Geraldine  gave  a  scream,  and  with  anxious  haste  rear- 
ranged the  thick  veil  that  had  slipped  from  her  head. 

Henry  Howard  also  had  uttered  a  cry,  but  not  on  account 
of  the  soldiers  and  the  frustrated  flight. 

His  eyes,  stretched  wide  open,  stared  at  this  figure  at  his 
side,  now  so  closely  veiled. 

It  seemed  to  him  as  though  like  a  spectre  a  strange  face 
had  risen  up  close  by  him — as  though  it  were  not  the  beloved 
head  of  the  queen  that  rested  there  on  his  shoulder.  He  had 
seen  this  face  only  as  a  vision,  as  the  fantasy  of  a  dream ;  but 
he  knew  with  perfect  certainty  that  it  was  not  Aer  countenance, 
not  the  countenance  of  his  Geraldine. 

The  lieutenant  of  the  Tower  motioned  to  his  servants,  and 
they  carried  the  lighted  candles  into  the  earl's  cell. 

Then  he  gave  Henry  Howard  his  hand  and  silently  led 
him  back  into  the  prison. 


HENEY   Vm.    AND    HIS   COUET.  347 

Henry  Howard  exhibited  no  reluctance  to  follow  him  ;  but 
his  hand  had  seized  Geraldine's  arm,  and  he  drew  her  along 
with  him  ;  his  eye  rested  on  her  with  a  penetrating  expression, 
and  seemed  to  threaten  her. 

They  were  now  again  in  the  room  which  they  had  before 
left  with  such  blessed  hopes. 

The  lieutenant  of  the  Tower  motioned  to  the  servants  to 
retire,  then  turned  with  solemn  earnestness  to  Earl  Surrey. 

"  My  lord,"  said  he,  "  it  is  at  the  king's  command  that  I 
bring  you  these  lights.  His  majesty  knows  all  that  has  hap- 
pened here  this  night.  He  knew  that  a  plot  was  formed  to 
rescue  you  ;  and  while  they  believed  they  were  deceiving  him, 
the  plotters  themselves  were  deceived.  They  had  succeeded, 
under  various  artful  false  pretences  in  influencing  the  king  to 
give  his  signet-ring  to  one  of  his  lords.  But  his  majesty  was 
already  warned,  and  he  already  knew  that  it  was  not  a  man, 
as  they  wanted  to  make  him  believe,  but  a  woman,  who  came, 
not  to  take  leave  of  you,  but  to  deliver  you  from  prison. — My 
lady,  the  jailer  whom  you  imagined  that  you  had  bribed,  was 
a  faithful  servant  of  the  king.  He  betrayed  your  plot  to  me  ; 
and  it  was  I  who  ordered  him  to  make  a  show  of  favoring 
your  deed.  You  will  not  be  able  to  release  Earl  Surrey ;  but 
if  such  is  your  command,  I  will  myself  see  you  to  the  ship 
that  lies  in  the  harbor  for  you  ready  to  sail.  No  one  will 
hinder  you,  my  lady,  from  embarking  on  it ;  Earl  Surrey  is 
not  permitted  to  accompany  you  ! — My  lord,  soon  the  night  is 
at  an  end,  and  you  know  that  it  will  be  your  last  night.  The 
king  has  ordered  that  I  am  not  to  prevent  this  lady,  if  she 
wishes  to  spend  this  night  with  you  in  your  room.  But  she  is 
allowed  to  do  so  only  on  tbo  condition  that  the  lights  in  your 
room  remain  burning.  That  is  the  king's  express  will,  and 
these  are  his  own  words :  '  Tell  Earl  Surrey  that  I  allow  him 
to  love  his  Geraldine,  but  that  he  is  to  open  his  eyes  to  see  her  1 
— That  he  may  sec,  you  will  give  him  a  light ;  and  I  command 
him  not  to  extinguish  it  so  long  as  Geraldine  is  with  him. 
Otherwise  he  may  confound  her  with  another  woman ;  for  in 


34-8  HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUBT. 

the  dark  one  cannot  distinguish  even  a  harlequin  from  a 
queen  ! ' — You  have  now  to  decide,  my  lord,  whether  this  lady 
remains  with  you,  or  whether  she  goes,  and  the  light  -shall  be 
put  out ! " 

"  She  shall  remain  with  me,  and  I  very  much  need  the 
light!"  said  Earl  Surrey;  and  his  penetrating  look  rested 
steadily  on  the  veiled  figure,  which  shook  at  his  words,  as  if  in 
an  ague. 

"•  Have  you  any  other  wish  besides  this,  my  lord?  " 

"None,  save  that  I  may  be  left  alone  with  her." 

The  lieutenant  bowed  and  left  the  room. 

They  were  now  alone  again,  and  stood  confronting  each 
other  in  silence.  Naught  was  heard  but  the  beating  of  their 
hearts,  and  the  sighs  of  anguish  that  burst  from  Geraldine's 
trembling  lips. 

It  was  an  awful,  a  terrible  pause.  Geraldine  would  have 
gladly  given  her  life  could  she  thereby  have  extinguished  the 
light  and  veiled  herself  in  impenetrable  darkness. 

But  the  earl  would  see.  With  an  angry,  haughty  look, 
he  stepped  up  to  her,  and,  as  with  commanding  gesture  he 
raised  his  arm,  Geraldine  shuddered  and  submissively  bowed 
her  head. 

"  Unveil  your  face  ! "  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  command. 

She  did  not  stir.  She  murmured  a  prayer,  then  raised 
her  clasped  hands  to  Henry  and  in  a  low  moan,  said :  "  Mer- 
cy !  mercy ! " 

He  extended  his  hand  and  seized  the  veil. 

"  Mercy  !  "  repeated  she,  in  a  voice  of  still  deeper  supplica- 
tion— of  still  greater  distress. 

But  he  was  inexorable.  He  tore  the  veil  from  her  face 
and  stared  at  her.  Then  with  a  wild  shriek  he  reeled  back 
and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

Jane  Douglas  durst  not  breathe  or  stir.  She  was  pale  as 
marble ;  her  large,  burning  eyes  were  fastened  with  an  un- 
utterable expression  of  entreaty  upon  her  lover,  who.  stood  be- 
fore her  with  covered  head,  and  crushed  with  anguish.  She 


HENRY    Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  349 

loved  him  more  than  her  life,  more  than  her  eternal  salvation  ; 
and  yet  she  it  was  that  had  brought  him  to  this  hour  of  agony. 
At, length  Earl  Surrey  let  his  hands  fall  from  his  face,  and 
with  a  fierce  movement  dashed  the  tears  from  his  eyes. 

As  he  looked  at  her,  Jane  Douglas  wholly  involuntarily 
sank  upon  her  knees,  and  raised  her  hands  imploringly  to 
him.  "  Henry  Howard,"  said  she,  in  a  low  whisper,  "  I  am 
Geraldine !  Me  have  you  loved ;  my  letters  have  you  read 
with  ecstasy,  and  to  me  have  you  often  sworn  that  you  loved 
my  mind  yet  more  than  my  appearance.  And  often  has  my 
heart  been  filled  with  rapture,  when  you  told  me  you  would 
love  me  however  my  face  might  change,  however  old  age  or 
sickness  might  alter  my  features.  You  remember,  Henry, 
how  I  once  asked  you  whether  you  would  cease  to  love  me, 
if  now  God  suddenly  put  a  mask  before  my  face,  so  that  you 
could  not  recognize  my  features.  You  replied  to  me : 
'  Nevertheless,  I  should  love  and  adore  you ;  for  what  in  you 
ravishes  me,  is  not  your  face,  but  you  yourself— yourself  with 
your  glorious  being  and  nature.  It  is  your  soul  and  your 
.heart  which  can  never  change,  which  lie  before  me  like  a  holy 
book,  clear  and  bright ! '  That  was  your  reply  to  me  then,  as 
you  swore  to  love,  me  eternally.  Henry  Howard,  I  now  re- 
mind you  of  your  oath !  I  am  your  Geraldine.  It  is  the 
same  soul,  the  same  heart ;  only  God  has  put  a  mask  upon 
my  face ! " 

Earl  Surrey  had  listened  to  her  with  eager  attention,  with 
increasing  amazement. 

"  It  is  she !  It  is  really !  '*  cried  he,  as  she  ceased.  "  It 
is  Geraldine  1 " 

And  wholly  overcome,  wholly  speechless  with  anguish,  ho 
sank  into  a  seat. 

Geraldine  flew  to  him  ;  she  crouched  at  his  feet ;  she  seized 
liia  drooping  hand  and  covered  it  with  kisses.     Aud  amid 
streaming  tears,  often  interrupted  by  her  sighs  and  her  sobs, 
she  recounted  to  him  the  sad  and  unhappy  history  of  her  love  ; , 
she  unveiled  before  him  the  whole  web  of  cunning  and  deceit, 


350  HENBY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

that  her  father  had  drawn  around  them  both.  She  laid  her 
whole  heart  open  and  unveiled  before  him.  She  told  him  of 
her  love,  of  her  agonies,  of  her  ambition,  and  her  remorse. 
She  accused  herself;  but  she  pleaded  her  love  as  an  excuse, 
and  with  streaming  tears,  clinging  to  his  knees,  she  implored 
him  for  pity,  for  forgiveness. 

He  thrust  her  violently  from  him,  and  stood  up  in  order  to 
escape  her  touch.  His  noble  countenance  glowed  with  anger  ; 
his  eyes  darted  lightning ;  his  long  flowing  hair  shaded  his 
lofty  brow  and  his  face  like  a  sombre  veil.  He  was  beautiful 
in  his  wrath,  beautiful  as  the  archangel  Michael  trampling 
the  dragon  beneath  his  feet.  And  thus  he  bent  down  his 
head  toward  her ;  thus  he  gazed  at  her  with  flashing  and  con- 
temptuous looks. 

"  I  forgive  you?"  said  he.  "Never  will  that  be!  Ha, 
shall  I  forgive  you  ? — you,  who  have  made  my  entire  life  a 
ridiculous  lie,  and  transformed  the  tragedy  of  my  love  into  a 
disgusting  fjarce  ?  Oh,  Geraldine,  how  I  have  loved  you ; 
and  now  you  have  become  to  me  a  loathsome  spectre,  before 
which  my  soul  shudders,  and  which  I  must  execrate !  You 
have  crushed  my  life,  and  even  robbed  my  death  of  its  sanc- 
tity ;  for  now  it  is  no  longer  the  martyrdom  of  my  love,  but 
only  the  savage  mockery  of  my  credulous  heart.  Oh,  Geral- 
dine, how  beautiful  it  would  have  been  to  die  for  you  ! — to  go 
to  death  with  your  name  upon  my  lips ! — to  bless  you  ! — to 
thank  you  for  my  happy  lot,  as  the  axe  was  already  uplifted 
to  smite  off  my  head !  How  beautiful  to  think  that  death 
does  not  separate  us,  but  is  only  the  way  to  an  eternal  union  ; 
that  we  should  lose  each  other  but  a  brief  moment  here,  to 
find  each  other  again  forevermofe  ! " 

Geraldine  writhed  at  his  feet  like  a  worm  trodden  upon  ; 
and  her  groans  of  distress  and  her  smothered  moans  were  the 
heart-rending  accompaniment  of  his  melancholy  words. 

"But  that  is  now  all  over!"  cried  Henry  Howard;  and 
his  face,  which  was  before  convulsed  with  grief  and  agony, 
now  glowed  again  with  wrath.  "  You  have  poisoned  my  life 


HENEY  Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  351 

and  my  death  ;  and  I  shall  curse  you  for  it,  and  my  last  word 
will  be  a  malediction  on  the  harlequin  Geraldine  ! " 

"  Have  pity  !  "  groaned  Jane.  "  Kill  me,  Henry  ;  stamp 
my  head  beneath  your  feet ;  only  let  this  torture  end  ! " 

"  Nay,  no  pity ! "  yelled  he,  wildly  ;  "  no  pity  for  this  im- 
postor, who  has  stolen  my  heart  and  crept  like  a  thief  into  my 
love  !  Arise,  and  leave  this  room  ;  for  you  fill  me  with  horror ; 
and  when  I  behold  you,  I  feel  only  that  I  must  curse  you  ! 
Ay,  a  curse  on  you  and  shame,  Geraldine  !  Curse  on  the  kiss- 
es that  I  have  impressed  on  your  lips — on  the  tears  of  rapture 
that  I  have  wept  on  your  bosom.  When  J  ascend  the  scaf- 
fold, I  will  curse  you,  and  my  last  words  shall  be :  '  Woe  to 
Geraldine  ! — for  she  is  my  murderess  ! " 

He  stood  there  before  her  with  arm  raised  on  high,  proud 
and  great  in  his  wrath.  She  felt  the  destroying  lightuing  of  his 
eyes,  though  she  durst  not  look  up  at  him,  but  lay  at  his  feet 
moaning  and  convulsed,  and  concealing  her  face  in  her  veil, 
as  she  shuddered  at  her  owu  picture. 

"  And  this  be  my  last  word  to  you,  Geraldine,"  said  Henry 
Howard,  panting  for  breath :  "  Go  heuce  under  the  burden 
of  my  curse,  aud  live — if  you  can  !  " 

She  unveiled  her  head,  and  raised  her  countenance  toward 
him.  A  contemptuous  smile  writhed  about  her  deathly  pale 
lips.  "  Live  !  "  said  she.  "  Have  we  not  sworn  to  die  with 
each  other?  Your  curse  does  not  release  me  from  my  oath, 
and  when  you  descend  into  the  grave,  Jane  Douglas  will  stand 
upon  its  brink,  to  wail  aud  weep  until  you  make  a  little  place 
for  her  there  below ;  until  she  has  softened  your  heart 
and  you  take  her  again,  as  your  Geraldine,  into  your  grave. 
Oh,  Henry  !  in  the  grave,  I  no  longer  wear  the  face  of  Jano 
Douglas — that  hated  face,  which  I  would  tear  with  ray  nails. 
In  the  grave,  I  am  Geraldine  again.  There  I  may  again  Ho 
close  to  your  heart,  and  again  you  will  say  to  me  :  '  I  love  not 
your  face  and  your  external  form  !  I  lovo  you  yourself;  I 
love  your  heart  and  mind  ;  and  that  can  never  change  ;  aud 
can  never  be  otherwise ! '" 


352  nENEr  vm.  AKD  HIS  COURT. 


"  Silence  !  "  said  he,  roughly  ;  "  silence,  if  you  do  not  want 
me  t.o  run  mad  !  Cast  not  my  own  words  in  my  face.  They 
defile  me,  for  falsehood  has  desecrated  and  trodden  them  in 
the  mire.  No  !  I  will  not  make  room  for  you  in  my  grave. 
I  will  not  again  call  you  Geraldine.  You  are  Jane  Douglas, 
and  I  hate  you,  and  I  hurl  my  curse  upon  your  criminal  head  ! 
I  tell  you—  " 

He  suddenly  paused,  and  a  slight  convulsion  ran  through 
his  whole  frame. 

Jane  Douglas  uttered  a  piercing  scream,  and  sprang  from 
her  knees. 

Day  had  broken  ;  and  from  the  prison  tower  sounded  the 
dismal,  plaintive  stroke  of  the  death-bell. 

"  Do  you  hear,  Jane  Douglas  ?  "  said  Surrey.  "  That  bell 
summons  me  to  death.  You  it  is  that  has  poisoned  my  last 
hour.  I  was  happy  when  I  loved  you.  I  die  in  despair,  for 
I  despise  and  hate  you." 

"  No,  no,  you  dare  not  die  !  "  cried  she,  clinging  to  him 
with  passionate  anguish.  .  "  You  dare  not  go  to  the  grave  with 
that  fierce  curse  upon  your  lips.  I  cannot  be  your  murderess. 
Oh,  it  'is  not  possible  that  they  will  put  you  to  death  —  you,  the 
beautiful,  the  noble  and  the  virtuous  Earl  Surrey.  My  God, 
what  have  you  done  to  excite  their  wrath  ?  You  are  innocent  ; 
and  they  know  it.  They  cannot  execute  you  ;  for  it  would  be 
murder  !  You  have  committed  no  offence  ;  you  have  been 
guilty  of  nothing  ;  no  crime  attaches  to  your  noble  person.  It 
is  indeed  no  crime  to  love  Jane  Douglas,  and  me  have  you 
loved  —  me  alone." 

"  No,  not  you,"  said  he  proudly  ;  "  I  have  nothing  tor  do 
with  Lady  Jane  Douglas.  I  loved  the  queen,  and  I  believed 
she  returned  my  love.  That  is  my  crime." 

The  door  opened  :  and  in  solemn  silence  the  lieutenant  of 
the  Tower  entered  with  the  priests  and  his  assistants.  In 
the  door  was  seen  the  bright-red  dress  of  the  headsman, 
who  was  standing  upon  the  threshold  with  face  calm  and  un- 
movsd. 


HENRY   VDI.    AND   HIS   COUET.  353 

"  It  is  time  ! "  solemnly  said  the  lieutenant. 

The  priest  muttered  his  prayers,  and  the  assistants  swung 
their  censers.  Without,  the  death-bell  kept  up  its  wail ;  and 
from  the  court  was  heard  the  hum  of  the  mob,  which,  curious 
and  bloodthirsty  as  it  ever  is,  had  streamed  hither  to  behold 
with  laughing  mouth  the  blood  of  the  man  who  but  yesterday 
was  its  favorite.  .. 

Earl  Surrey  stood  there  a  moment  in  silence.  His  features 
worked  and  were  convulsed,  and  a  death-like  pallor  covered 
his  cheeks. 

He  trembled,  not  at  death,  but  at  dying.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  he  already  felt  on  his  neck  the  cold  broad-axe  which 
that  frightful  man  there  held  in  his  hand.  Oh,  to  die  on  the 
battle-field — what  a  boon  it  would  have  been  !  To  come  to 
an  end  on  the  scaffold— what  a  disgrace  was  this  ! 

"Henry  Howard,  my  son,  are  you  prepared  to  die?" 
asked  the  priest.  u  Have  you  made  your  peace  with  God? 
Do  you  repent  of  your  sins,  and  do  you  acknowledge  death  as 
a  righteous  expiation  and  punishment?  Do  you  forgive  your 
enemies,  and  depart  hence  at  peace  with  yourself  and  with 
mankind?" 

"  I  am  prepared  to  die,"  said  Surrey,  with  a  proud  smile ; 
"  the  other  questions,  my  father,  I  will  answer  to  my  God." 

"  Do  you  confess  that  you  were  a  wicked  traitor  ?  And 
do  you  beg  the  forgiveness  of  your  noble  and  righteous,  your 
exalted  and  good  king,  for  the  blasphemous  injury  to  his  sa- 
cred majesty  ?  " 

Eurl  Surrey  looked  him  steadily  in  the  eye.  "  Do  you 
know  what  crime  I  am  accused  of  ?  " 

The  priest  cast  down  his  eyes,  and  muttered  a  few  unintel- 
ligible words. 

With  a  haughty  movement  of  the  head,  Henry  Howard 
turned  from  the  priest  to  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower. 

"  Do  you  know  my  crime,  my  lord?"  said  he. 

But  the  lord  lieutenant  also  dropped  his  eyes,  and  re- 
mained silent. 


354  HENKY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

Henry  Howard  smiled.  "  Well,  BOW,  I  will  tell  you.  I 
have,  as  it  becomes  me,  my  father's  son,  borne  the  arms  of 
our  house  on  my  shield  and  over  the  entrance  of  my  palace, 
and  it  has  been  discovered  that  the  king  bears  the  same  arms 
that  we  do.  That  is  my  high-treason  !  I  have  said  that  the 
king  is  deceived  in  many  of  his  servants,  and  often  promotes 
his  favorites  to  high  honors  which  they  do  not  deserve.  That 
is  my  offence  against  his  majesty ;  and  it  is  that  for  which  I 
shall  lay  my  head  upon  the  block.*  But  make  yourself  easy  ; 
I  shall  myself  add  to  my  crimes  one  more,  so  that  they  may 
be  grievous  enough  to  make  the  conscience  of  the  righteous 
and  generous  king  quiet.  I  have  given  up  my  heart  to  a 
wretched  and  criminal  love,  and  the  Geraldine  whom  I  have 
sung  in  many  a  poem,  and  have  celebrated  even  before  the 
king,  was  nothing  but  a  miserable  coquettish  strumpet ! " 

Jane  Douglas  gave^  a  scream,  and  sank  upon  the  ground  as 
if  struck  by  lightning. 

"Do  you  repent  of  this  sin,  my  son?"  asked  the  priest. 
"  Do  you  turn  your  heart  away  from  this  sinful  love,  in  order 
to  turn  it  to  God?" 

"  I  not  only  repent  of  this  love,  but  I  execrate  it !  and  now, 
my  father,  let  us  go  ;  for  you  see,  indeed,  my  lord  is  becoming 
impatient.  He  bears  in  mind  that  the  king  will  find  no  rest 
until  the  Howards  also  have  gone  to  rest.  Ah,  King  Henry  ! 
King  Henry !  Thou  callest  thyself  the  mighty  king  of  the 
world,  and  yet  thou  tremblest  before  the  arms  of  thy  subject ! 
My  lord,  if  you  go  to  the  king  to-day,  give  him  Henry  Howard's 
greeting  ;  and  tell  him,  I  wish  his  bed  may  be  as  easy  to  him 
as  the  grave  will  be  to  me.  Now,  come,  my  lords !  It  is 
time." 

With  head  proudly  erect  and  calm  step,  he  turned  to  the 
door.  But  now  Jane  Douglas  sprang  from  the  ground  ;  noAV 
she  rushed  to  Henry  Howard  and  clung  to  him  with  all  the 

*  These  two  insignificant  accusations  were  the  only  points  that  could  be  made  out 
against  the  Earl  of  Surrey.  Upon  these  charges,  brought  by  his  mother  and  sister,  he 
was  executed. — Tytler,  page  492;  Burnet,  vol.  i.,  page  75;  Leti,  vol.  i.,  page  108. 


HENRY  Vm.    AND    HIS   COURT.  355 

might  of  her  passion  and  agony.  "  I  leave  you  not ! "  cried  she, 
breathless  and  pale  as  death.  "  You  dare  not  repulse  me,  for 
you  have  sworn  that  we  shall  live  and  die  together." 

He  hurled  her  from  him  in  fierce  wrath,  and  drew  himself 
up  before  her,  lofty  and  threatening. 

"  I  forbid  you  to  follow  me  !  "  cried  he,  in  a  tone  of  com- 
mand. She  reeled  back  against  the  wall  and  looked  at  him, 
trembling  and  breathless. 

He  was  still  lord  over  her  soul ;  she  was  still  subject  to  him 
in  love  and  obedience.  She  could  not  therefore  summon  up 
courage  to  defy  his  command. 

She  beheld  him  as  he  left  the  room  and  passed  down  the 
corridor  with  his  dreadful  train  ;  she  heard  their  footsteps  grad- 
ually die  away ;  and  then  suddenly  in  the  yard  sounded  the  hol- 
low roll  of  the  drum. 

Jane  Douglas  fell  on  her  knees  to  pray,  but  her  lips  trem- 
bled so  much  that  she  could  find  no  words  for  her  prayer. 

The  roll  of  the  drum  ceased  in  the  court  below,  and  only 
the  death-bell  still  continued  to  wail  and  wail.  She  heard  a 
voice  speaking  loud  and  powerful  words. 

It  was  his  voice  ;  it  was  Henry  Howard  that  was  speaking. 
And  now  again  the  hollow  roll  of  the  drums  drowned  his 
voice. 

"  He  dies  !  He  dies,  and  I  am  not  with  him  !  "  cried  she, 
with  a  shriek ;  and  she  gathered  herself  up,  and  as  if  borne  by 
a  whirlwind  she  dashed  out  of  the  room,  through  the  corridor, 
and  down  the  stairs. 

There  she  stood  in  the  court.  That  dreadful  black  pile 
above  there,  in  the  midst  of  this  square  crowded  with  men — 
that  was  the  scaffold.  Yonder  she  beheld  him  prostrate  on 
his  knees.  She  beheld  the  uxe  in  the  headsman's  hand ; 
»hc  saw  him  raise  it  for  the  fatal  stroke. 

She  was  a  woman  no  longer,  but  a  lioness  1  Not  a  drop 
of  blood  was  in  her  checks.  Her  nostrils  were  expanded  and 
her  ey»s  darted  lightning. 

She  drew  out  a  dagger  that  she  had  concealed  in  her  bosom, 


356  HENBY  Vin.    AND  HIS   COUET. 

and  made  a  path  through  the  amazed,  frightened,  yielding 
crowd. 

With  one  spring  she  had  rushed  up  the  steps  of  the  scaffold. 
She  now  stood  by  him  on  the  top  of  it — close  by  that  kneeling 
figure. 

There  was  a  flash  through  the  air.  She  heard  a  peculiar 
whiz — then  a  hollow  blow.  A  red  vapor-like  streak  of  blood 
spurted  up,  and  covered  Jane  Douglas  with  its  crimson 
flood. 

"  I  come,  Henry,  I  come ! "  cried  she,  with  a  wild  shout. 
"  I  shall  be  with  thee  in  death ! " 

And  again  there  was  a  flash  through  the  air.  It  was  the 
dagger  that  Jane  Douglas  plunged  into  her  heart. 

She  had  struck  well.  No  sound — no  groan  burst  from  her 
lips.  With  a  proud  smile  she  sank  by  her  lover's  headless 
corpse,  and  with  a  last  dying  effort  she  said  to  the  horrified 
headsman  :  "  Let  me  share  his  grave  !  Henry  Howard,  in 
life  and  in  death  I  am  with  thee  !  " 


CHAPTER     XXXIIIf 

NEW   INTRIGUES. 

HENRY  HOWARD  was  dead;  and  now  one  would  have 
thought  the  king  might  be  satisfied  and  quiet,  and  that  sleep 
would  no  longer  flee  from  his  eyelids,  since  Henry  Howard, 
his  great  rival,  had  closed  his  eyes  forever ;  since  Henry  How- 
ard was  no  longer  there,  to  steal  away  his  crown,  to  fill  the 
world  with  the  glory  of  his  deeds,  to  dim  the  genius  of  the  king 
by  his  own  fame  as  a  poet. 

But  the  king  was  still  dissatisfied.  Sleep  still  fled  from  his 
couch. 

The  cause  of  this  was  that  his  work  was  only  just  half  done. 
Henry  Howard's  father,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  still  lived.  The 
cause  of  this  was,  that  the  king  was  always  obliged  to  think 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUET.  357 

of  this  powerful  rival ;  and  these  thoughts  chased  sleep  from 
his  eyelids.  His  soul  was  sick  of  the  Howards  ;  therefore  his 
body  suffered  such  terrible  pains. 

If  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  would  close  his  eyes  in  death,  then 
would  the  king  also  be  able  to  close  his  again  in  refreshing  sleep ! 
But  this  court  of  peers — and  only  by  such  a  court  could  the 
duke  be  judged — this  court  of  peers  was  so  slow  aud  deliberate  ! 
It  worked  far  less  rapidly,  and  was  not  near  so  serviceable,  iis 
the  Parliament  which  had  so  quickly  condemned  Henry  How- 
ard. Why  must  the  old  Howard  bear  a  ducal  title  ?  Why 
was  he  not  like  his  son,  only  an  earl,  so  that  the  obedient  Par- 
liament might  condemn  him? 

That  was  the  king's  inextinguishable  grief,  his  gnawing 
pain,  which  made  him  raving  with  fury  and  heated  his  blood, 
and  thereby  increased  the  pains  of  his  body. 

He  raved  and  roared  with  impatience.  Through  the  halls 
of  his  palace  resounded  his  savage  vituperation.  It  made 
every  one  tremble  and  quake,  for  no  one  was  sure  that  it  was 
not  he  that  was  to  fall  that  day  a  victim  to  the  king's  fury. 
No  one  could  know  whether  the  king's  ever-increasing  thirst 
for  blood  would  not  that  day  doom  him. 

With  the  most  jealous  strictness  the  king,  from  his  sick- 
couch,  watched  over  his  royal  dignity ;  and  the  least  fault 
against  that  might  arouse  bis  wrath  and  bloodthirstiness. 
Woe  to  those  who  wanted  still  to  maintain  that  the  pope  was 
head  of  the  Church  1  Woe  to  those  who  ventured  to  call  God 
the  only  Lord  of  the  Church,  and  honored  not  the  king  as  the 
Church's  holy  protector  I  The  one,  like  the  other,  were  trai- 
tors and  sinners,  and  he  had  Protestants  and  Roman  Catholics 
alike  executed,  however  near  they  stood  to  his  own  person, 
and  however  closely  ho  was  otherwise  bound  to  them. 

Whoever,  therefore,  could  avoid  it,  kept  himself  far  from 
the  dreaded  person  of  the  king ;  and  whoever  was  constrained 
by  duty  to  be  near  him,  trembled  for  his  life,  and  commended 
his  soul  to  God.  • 

There  were  only  four  persons  who  did  not  fear  the  king, 


358  HENEY   Vm.   AND   HIS   COUBT. 

and  who  seemed  to  be  safe  from  his  destroying  wrath.  There 
was  the  queen,  who  nursed  him  with  devoted  attention,  and 
John  Heywood,  who  with  untiring  zeal  sustained  Catharine  in 
her  difficult  task,  and  who  still  sometimes  succeeded  in  win- 
ing a  smile  from  the  king.  There  were,  furthermore,  Gardiner? 
bishop  of  Winchester,  and  Earl  Douglas. 

Lady  Jane  Douglas  was  dead.  The  king  had  therefore  for- 
given her  father,  and  again  shown  himself  gracious  and  friendly 
to  the  deeply-bowed  earl.  Besides,  it  was  such'  an  agreeable  and 
refreshing  feeling  to  the  suffering  king  to  have  some  one  about 
him  who  suffered  yet  more  than  he  himself !  It  comforted  him 
to  know  that  there  could  be  agonies  yet  more  horrible  than 
those  pains  of  the  body  under  which  he  languished.  Earl 
Douglas  suffered  these  agonies  ;  and  the  king  saw  with  a  kind 
of  delight  how  his  hair  turned  daily  more  gray,  and  his  fea- 
tures became  more  relaxed  and  feeble.  Douglas  was  younger 
than  the  king,  and  yet  how  old  and  gray  his  face  was  beside 
the  king's  well-fed  and  blooming  countenance  ! 

Could  the  king  have  seen  the  bottom  of  his  soul,  he  would 
have  had  less  sympathy  with  Earl  Douglas's  sorrow. 

He  considered  him  only  as  a  tender  father  mourning  the 
death  of  his  only  child.  He  did  not  suspect  that  it  was  less 
the  father  that  Jane's  painful  death  had  smitten,  than  the 
ambitious  man,  the  fanatical  Roman  Catholic,  the  enthusiastic 
disciple  of  Loyola,  who  with  dismay  saw  all  his  plans  frus- 
trated, and  the  moment  drawing  nigh  when  he  would  be  di- 
vested of  that  power  and  consideration  which  he  enjoyed  in 
the  secret  league  of  the  disciples  of  Jesus. 

With  him,  therefore,  it  was  less  the  daughter,  for  whom 
he  mourned,  than  the  king's  seventh  wife.  And  that  Catharine 
wore,  the  crown,  and  not  his  daughter — not  Jane  Douglas — 
this  it  was  that  he  could  never  forgive  the  queen. 

He  wanted  to  take  vengeance  on  the  queen  for  Jane's 
death  ;  he  wanted  to  punish  Catharine  for  his  frustrated  hopes, 
for  his  desires  that  she  had  trampled  upon. 

But  Earl  Douglas  durst  not  himself  venture  to  make  an- 


HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  359 

other  attempt  to  prejudice  the  king's  mind  against  his  consort. 
Henry  had  interdicted  him  from  it  under  the  penalty  of  his 
wrath.  With  words  of  threatening,  he  had  warned  him  from 
such  an  attempt ;  and  Earl  Douglas  very  well  knew  that  King 
Henry  was  inflexible  in  his  determination,  when  the  matter 
under  consideration  was  the  execution  of  a  threatened  punish- 
ment. 

Yet  what  Douglas  durst  not  venture,  that  Gardiner  could 
venture — Gardiner,  who,  thanks  to  the  capriciousness  of  the 
sick  king,  had  for  the  few  days  past  enjoyed  again  the  royal  favor 
so  unreservedly  that  the  noble  Archbishop  Cranmer  had  re- 
ceived orders  to  leave  the  court  and  retire  to  his  episcopal  resi- 
dence at  Lambeth. 

Catharine  had  seen  him  depart  with  anxious  forebodings  ; 
for  Cranmer  had  ever  been  her  friend  and  her  support.  His 
mild  and  serene  countenance  had  ever  been  to  her  like  a  star 
of  peace,  in  the  midst  of  this  tempest-tossed  and  passion-lashed 
court  life  ;  and  his  gentle  and  noble  words  had  always  fallen 
like  a  soothing  balm  ou  her  poor  trembling  heart. 

She  felt  that  with  his  departure  she  lost  her  noblest  sup- 
port, her  strengthening  aid,  and  that  she  was  now  surrounded 
only  by  enemies  and  opponents.  True,  she  still  had  John 
Ileywood,  the  faithful  friend,  the  indefatigable  servant ;  but 
since  Gardiner  had  exercised  his  sinister  influence  over  the 
king's  mind,  John  Heywood  durst  scarcely  risk  himself  in 
Henry's  presence.  Trde,  she  had  also  Thomas  Seymour,  her 
lover ;  but  she  knew  and  felt  that  she  was  everywhere  sur- 
rounded by  spies  and  eavesdroppers,  and  that  now  it  required 
nothing  more  than  an  interview  with  Thomas  Seymour — a  few 
tender  words — perchance  even  only  a  look  full  of  mutual  un- 
derstanding and  love,  in  order  to  send  him  and  her  to  the  scaf- 
fold. 

She  trembled  jiot  for  herself,  but  for  her  lover.  That 
made  her  cautious  and  thoughtful.  That  gave  her  courage 
never  to  show  Thomas  Seymour  other  than  a  cold,  serious 
face ;  never  to  meet  him  otherwise  than  in  the  circle  of  her 


360  HENEY  Vm.    AND   HIS   COUBT. 

court ;    never  to    smile   OB    him ;    never  to   give  him  her 
hand. 

She  was,  however,  certain  of  her  future.  She  knew  that  a 
day  would  come  on  which  the  king's  death  would  deliver  her 
from  her  burdensome  grandeur  and  her  painful  royal  crown  ; 
when  she  should  be  free — free  to  give  her  hand  to  the  man 
whom  alone  oji  earth  she  loved,  and  to  become  his  wife. 

She  waited  for  that  day,  as  the  prisoner  does  for  the  hour 
of  his  release ;  .but  like  him  she  knew  that  a  premature  at- 
tempt to  escape  from  her  dungeon  would  bring  her  only  ruin 
and  death,  and  not  freedom. 

She  nmst  be  patient  and  wait.  She  must  give  up  all  per- 
sonal intercourse  with  her  lover ;  and  even  his  letters  John 
Heywood  could  bring  her  but  very  seldom,  and  only  with  the 
greatest  caution.  How  often  already  had  not  John  Heywood 
conjured  her  to  give  up  this  correspondence  also  !  how  often 
had  he  not  with  tears  in  his  eyes  besought  her  to  renounce 
this  love,  which  might  one  day  be  her  ruin  and  her  death ! 
Catharine  laughed  at  bis  gloomy  forebodings,  and  opposed  to 
his  dark  prophecies  a  bravery  reliant  on  the  future,  the  joyous 
courage  of  her  love. 

She  would  not  die,  for  happiness  and  love  were  awaiting 
her ;  she  would  not  renounce  happiness  and  love,  for  the  sake 
of  which  she  could  endure  this  life  in  other  respects — this  life 
of  peril,  of  resignation,  of  enmity,  and  of  hatred. 

But  she  wanted  to  live  in  order 'to  be  happy  hereafter. 
This  thought  made  her  brave  and  resolute  ;  it  gave  her  cour- 
age to  defy  her  enemies  with  serene  brow  and  smiling  lip  ;  it 
enabled  her  to  sit  with  bright  eye  and  rosy  cheeks  at  the  side 
of  her  dreaded  and  severe  husband,  and,  with  cheerful  wit  and 
inexhaustible  good-humor,  jest  away  the  frown  from  his  brow, 
and  vexation  from  his  soul. 

But  just  because  she  could  do  this,  elje  was  a  dangerous 
antagonist  to  Douglas  and  Gardiner.  Just  on  that  account,  it 
was  to  be  their  highest  effort  to  destroy  this  beautiful  young 
woman,  who  durst  defy  them  and  weaken  their  influence  with 


HENEY    VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT.  361 

the  king.  If  they  could  but  succeed  in  rendering  the  king's 
mind  more  and  more  gloomy ;  if  they  could  but  completely 
fill  him  again  with  fanatical  religious  zeal ;  then,  and  then 
only,  could  they  hope  to  attain  their  end  ;  which  end  was  this  : 
to  bring  back  the  king  as  a  contrite,  penitent,  and  humble  son 
of  the  ouly  saving  mother  Church,  and  to  make  him  again, 
from  a  proud,  vain,  and  imperious  prince,  an  obedient  and  sub- 
missive son  of  the  pope. 

The  king  was  to  renounce  this  vain  and  blasphemous  arro- 
gance of  wishing  to  be  himself  head  of  his  Church.  He  was 
to  turn  away  from  the  spirit  of  novelty  and  heresy,  and  again 
become  a  faithful  and  devout  Catholic. 

But  in  order  that  they  might  attain  this  end,  Catharine 
must  be  removed  from  him ;  he  must  no  longer  behold  her 
rosy  and  beautiful  face,  and  no  longer  allow  himself  to  be  di- 
verted by  her  sensible  discourse  and  her  keen  wit. 

"  We  shall  not  be  able  to  overthrow  the  queen,"  said  Earl 
Douglas  to  Gardiner,  as  the  two  stood  in  the  king's  anteroom, 
and  as  Catharine's  cheerful  chit-chat  and  the  king's  merry 
laugh  came  pealing  to  them  from  the  adjoining  room.  "  No, 
no,  Gardiner,  she  is  too  powerful  and  too  crafty.  The  king 
loves  her  very  much-;  and  she  is  such  an  agreeable  and  refresh- 
ing recreation  to  him." 

'•  Just  on  that  account  we  must  withdraw  her  from  him," 
said  Gardiner,  with  a  dark  frown.  "  He  must  turn  away  his 
heart  from  this  earthly  love  ;  and  after  we  shall  have  morti- 
fied this  love  in  him,  this  savage  and  arrogant  man  will  return 
to  us  and  to  God,  contrite  and  humble." 

"  But  we  shall  not  be  able  to  mortify  it,  friend.  It  is  so 
ardent  and  selfish  a  love." 

"  So  much  the  greater  will  be  the  triumph,  if  our  holy  ad- 
monitions are  successful  in  touching  his  heart,  Douglas.  It  is 
true  lie  will  suffer  very  much  if  he  is  obliged  to  give  up  this 
woman.  But  he  needs  precisely  this  suffering  iu  order  to  be- 
come contrite  and  penitent.  His  mind  must  first  be  entirely 
darkened,  so  that  we  can  illuminate  it  with  the  light  of  faith. 
16 


362  HEiraY   VIII.    AND    HIS   COUET. 

Ho  must  first  be  rendered  perfectly  isolated  and  comfortless  in 
order  to  bring  him  b'ack  to  the  holy  communion  of  the  Church, 
and  to  find  him  again  accessible  to  the  consolations  of  that 
faith  which  alone  can  save." 

"  Ah,"  sighed  Douglas,  4i  I  fear  that  this  will  be  a  useless 
struggle.  The  king  is  so  vain  of  his  self-constituted  high-priest- 
hood ! " 

*'  But  he  is  such  a  weak  man,  and  such  a  great  sinner.!  " 
said  Gardiner,  with  a  cold  smile.  "  He  trembles  so  much  at 
death  and  God's  judgment,  and  our  holy  mother  the  Church 
can  give  him  absolution,  and  by  her  holy  sacraments  render 
death  easy  to  him.  He  is  a  wicked  sinner  and  has  stings  of 
conscience.  This  it  is  that  will  bring  him  back  again  to  the 
bosom  of  the  Catholic  Church." 

"  But  when  will  that  come  to  pass?  The  king  is  sick,  and 
any  day  may  put  an  end  to  bis  lite.  Woe  to  us,  if  he  die  be- 
fore he  has  given  the  power  into  our  hands,  and  nominated  us 
his  executors  !  Woe  to  us,  if  the  queen  is  appointed  regent, 
and  the  king  selects  the  Seymours  as  her  ministers  !  Oh,  my 
•wise  and  pious  father,  the  work  that  you  wish  to  do  must  be 
done  soon,  or  it  must  remain  forever  unaccomplished." 

"  It  shall  be  done  this  very  day,"  said  Gardiner,  solemnly ; 
and  bending  down  closer  to  the  earl's  ear,  he  continued  :  "  we 
have  lulled  the  queen  into  assurance  and  self-confidence,  and 
by  this  means  she  shall  be  ruined  this  very  day.  She  relies 
so  strongly  on  her  power  over  the  king's  disposition,  that  she 
often  summons  up  courage  even  to  contradict  him,  and  to  set 
her  own  will  in  opposition  to  his.  That  shall  be  her  ruin  this 
very  day  !  For  mark  well,  earl ;  the  king  is  now  again  like 
a  tiger  that  has  been  long  fasting.  He  thirsts  for  blood !  The 
queen  has  an  aversion  to  human  blood,  and  she  is  horrified 
when  she  hears  of  executions.  So  we  must  manage  that  these 
opposing  inclinations  may  come  into  contact,  and  contend  with 
each  other." 

"  Oh,  I  understand  now,"  whispered  Douglas  ;  "  and  I  bow 
in  reverence  before  the  wisdom  of  your  highness.  You  will 
let  them  both  contend  with  their  own  weapons." 


HENET  Vm.   AND  HIS  COUET.  363 

"  I  will  point  out  a  welcome  prey  to  his  appetite  for  blood, 
and  give  her  silly  compassion  an  opportunity  to  contend  with 
the  kiug  for  his  prey.  Do  you  not  think,  earl,  that  this  will 
be  an  amusing  spectacle,  and  one  refreshing  to  the  heart,  to 
see  how  the  tiger  and  dove  struggle  with  each  other?  And  I 
tell  you  the  tiger  thirsts  so  much  for  blood  !  Blood  is  the  only 
balm  that  he  applies  to  his  aching  limbs,  and  by  which  alone 
he  imagines  that  he  can  restore  peace  and  courage  to  his  .tor- 
tured conscience  and  his  dread  of  death.  Ah,  ha !  we  have 
told  him  that,  with  each  new  execution  of  a  heretic,  one  of  his 
great  sins  would  be  blotted  out,  and  that  the  blood  of  the  Cal- 
vinists  serves  to  wash  out  of  his  Account-book  some  of  his  evil 
deeds.  He  would  be  so  glad  to  be  able  to  appear  pure  and 
guiltless  before  the  tribunal  of  his  God  !  Therefore  he  needs 
very  much  heretical  blood.  But  hark — the  hour  strikes  which 
summons  me  to  the  royal  chamber !  There  has  been  enough 
of  the  queen's  laughing  and  chit-chat.  We  will  now  endeavor 
to  banish  the  smile  forever  from  her  face.  She  is  a  heretic  ; 
and  it  is  a  pious  work,  well  pleasing  to  God,  if  we  plunge  her 
headlong  into  ruin  !  " 

"  May  God  be  with  your  highness,  and  assist  you  by  His 
grace,  that  yon  may  accomplish  this  sublime  work  !  " 

"  God  will  be  with  us,  my  son,  since  for  Him  it  is  that  we 
labor  and  harass  ou'rselves.  To  His  honor  and  praise  we  bring 
these  misbelieving  heretics  to  the  stake,  and  make  the  air  re- 
echo with  the  agonizing  shrieks  of  those  who  are  racked  and 
tortured.  That  is  music  well  pleasing  to  God ;  and  the 
angels  in  heaven  will  triumph  and  be  glad  when  the  heretical 
and  infidel  Queen  Catharine  also  has  to  strike  up  this  music  of 
the  damned.  Now  I  go  to  the  holy  labor  of  love  and  godly 
wrath.  Pray  for  me,  my  son,  that  I  may  succeed.  Remain 
here  in  the  anteroom,  and  await  my  call ;  perhaps  we  shall 
need;  !  Vuy  for  us,  and  with  us.  Ah,  we  still  owe  this 

heretical  queen  a  gfudgo  for  Anno  Askew.  To-day  we  will 
pay  her.  Then  she  accused  us,  to-day  we  will  accuse  her, 
and  God  and  His  host  of  saints  and  aniiels  are  with  us." 


364:  HENKY    VHI.    AND    HIS    COURT. 

And  the  pious  and  godly  priest  crossed  himself,  and  with 
head  humbly  bowed  and  a  soft  smile  about  his  thin,  bloodless 
lips,  strode  through  the  hall  in  order  to  betake  himself  to  the 
king's  chamber. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE  KING  AND  THE  PEIEST. 

"  GOD  bless  and  preserve  yonr  majesty  !  "  said  Gardiner  as 
he  entered,  to  the  king,  who  just  then  was  sitting  with  the 
queen  at  the  chess-board.  With  frowning  brow  and  com- 
pressed lips  he  looted  over  the  game,  which  stood  unfavorable 
for  him,  and  threatened  him  with  a  speedy  checkmate. 

It  was  not  wise  in  the  queen  not  to  let  the  king  win ; 
for  his  superstitious  and  jealous  temper  looked  upon  such  a 
won  game  of  chess  as  withal  an  assault  on  his  own  person. 
And  he  who  ventured  to  conquer  him  at  chess  was  always  to 
Henry  a  sort  of  traitor  that  threatened  his  kingdom,  and  was 
rash  enough  to  attempt  to  seize  the  crown. 

The  queen  very  well  knew  that,  but — Gardiner  was  right 
— she  was  too  self-confident.  She  trusted  a  little  to  her  power 
over  the  king ;  she  imagined  he  would  make  an  exception  in 
her  favor.  And  it  was  so  dull  to  be  obliged  ever  to  be  the 
losing  and  conquered  party  at  this  game  ;  to  permit  the  king 
always  to  appear  as  the  triumphant  victor,  and  to  bestow  on 
his  game  praise  which  he  did  not  deserve.  Catharine  wanted 
to  allow  herself  for  once  the  triumph  of  having  beaten  her  hus- 
band. She  fought  him  man  to  man  ;  she  irritated  him  by  her 
ever-renewed  attacks  ;  she  embittered  him  by  the  ever-approach- 
ing danger. 

The  king,  who  at  the  beginning  had  been  cheerful,  and 
laughed  when  Catharine  took  one  of  his  pieces — the  king  now 
no  longer  laughed.  It  was  no  more  a  game.  It  was  a  seri- 
ous struggle ;  and  he  contended  with  his  consort  for  the  vic- 
tory with  impassioned  eagerness. 


HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  365 

Catharine  did  not  even  see  the  clouds  which  were  gather- 
ing on  the  king's  brow.  Her  looks  were  directed  only  to  the 
chess-board ;  and,  breathless  with  expectation  and  glowing 
with  eagerness,  she  considered  the  move  she  was  about  to 
make.  « 

But  Gardiner  was  very  well  aware  of  the  king's  secret  an- 
ger ;  and  he  comprehended  that  the  situation  was  favorable  for 
him. 

With  soft,  sneaking  step  he  approached  the  king,  and,  stand- 
ing behind  him,  looked  over  the  game. 

"  You  are  checkmated  in  four  moves,  my  husband !  "  said 
the  queen  with  a  cheerful  laugh,  as  she  made  her  move. 

A  still  darker  frown  gathered  on  the  king's  brow,  and  his 
lips  were  violently  compressed. 

"  It  is  true,  your  majesty,"  said  Gardiner.  "  You  will 
soon  have  to  succumb.  Danger  threatens  you  from  the 
queen." 

Henry  gave  a  start,  and  turned  his  face  to  Gardiner  with 
an  expression  of  inquiry.  In  his  exasperated  mood  against 
the  queen,  the  crafty  priest's  ambiguous  remark  struck  him 
with  double  keenness. 

Gardiner  was  a  very  skilful  hunter ;  the  very  first  arrow 
that  he  shot  had  hit.  But  Catharine,  too,  had  heard  it  whiz. 
Gardiner's  slow,  ambiguous  words  had  startled  her  from  her 
artless  security  ;  and  as  she  now  looked  into  the  king's  glowing, 
excited  face,  she  comprehended  her  want  of  prudence. 

But  it  was  too  late  to  remedy  it.  The  king's  checkmate 
was  unavoidable  ;  and  Henry  himself  had  already  noticed 
his  defeat. 

"  It  is  all  right  1 "  said  the  king,  impetuously.  "  You  havo 
won,  Catharine,  and,  by  the  holy  mother  of  God !  you  can 
li.inst  of  the  rare  good  fortune  of  having  vanquished  Henry  of 
England!" 

"  I  will  not  boast  of  it,  my  noble  husband  !  "  said  she,  with 
a  smile.  "  You  havo  played  with  me  as  the  lion  docs  with  tire 
puppy,  which  he  docs  not  crush  only  because  ho  has  corapas- 


366  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTJKT. 

sion  on  him,  and  lie  pities  the  poor  little  creature.  Lion,  I 
thank  you.  You  have  been  magnanimous  to-day.  You  have 
let  ma  win." 

The  king's  face  brightened  a  little.  Gardiner  saw  it.  He 
must  prevent  Catharine  from  following  up  her  advantage  fur- 
ther. 

"  Magnanimity  is  an  exalted,  but  a  very  dangerous  virtue," 
said  he,  gravely ;  "  and  kings  above  all  things  dare  not  exercise 
it ;  for  magnanimity  pardons  crimes  committed,  and  kings  are 
not  here  to  pardon,  but  to  punish." 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed,  "  said  Catharine  ;  "  to  be  able  to  be  mag- 
nanimous is  the  noblest  prerogative  of  kings  ;  and  since  they 
are  God's  representatives  on  earth,  they  too  must  exercise  pity 
and  mercy,  like  God  himself." 

The  king's  brow  again  grew  dark,  and  his  sullen  looks 
stared  at  the  chess-board. 

Gardiner  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  made  no  reply.  He 
drew  a  roll  of  papers  out  of  his  gown  and  handed  it  to  the 
king. 

"  Sire,"  said  he,  "  I  hope  you  do  not  share  the  queen's 
views ;  else  it  would  be  bad  for  the  quiet  and  peace  of  the 
country.  Mankind  cannot  be  governed  by  mercy,  but  only 
through  fear.  Your  majesty  holds  the  sword  in  his  hands.  If 
you  hesitate  to  let  it  fall  on  evil-doers,  they  will  soon  wrest  it 
from  your  hands,  and  you  will  be  powerless  ! " 

"  Those  are  very  cruel  words,  your  highness  !  "  exclaimed 
Catharine,  who  allowed  herself  to  be  carried  away  by  her  mag- 
nanimous heart,  and  suspected  that  Gardiner  had  come  to  move 
the  king  to  some  harsh  and  bloody  decision. 

She  wanted  to  anticipate  his  design ;  she  wanted  to  move 
the  king  to  mildness.  But  the  moment  was  unpropitious  for 
her. 

The  king,  whom  she  had  just  before  irritated  by  her  vic- 
tory over  him,  felt  his  vexation  heightened  by  the  opposition 
which  she  offered  to  the  bishop  ;  for  this  opposition  was  at  the 
same  time  directed  against  himself.  The  kin°r  was  not  at  all 


HENRY   VIII.    AND    HIS    COUKT.  367 

inclined  to  exercise  mercy ;  it  was,  therefore,  a  very  wicked 
notion  of  the  queen's  to  praise  mercy  as  the  highest  privilege 
of  princes. 

With  a  silent  nod  of  the  head,  he  took  the  papers  from 
Gardiner's  hands,  and  opened  them. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  running  over  the  pages,  "  your  highness  is 
right ;  men  do  not  deserve  to  be  treated  with  mercy,  for  they 
are  always  ready  to  abuse  it.  Because  we  have  for  a  few 
weeks  lighted  no  fagot-piles  and  erected  no  scaffolds,  they  im- 
agine that  we  are  asleep  ;  and  they  begin  their  treasonable  and 
mischievous  doings  with  redoubled  violence,  and  raise  their  sin- 
ful fists  against  us,  in  order  to  mock  us.  I  see  here  an  accusa- 
tion against  one  who  has  presumed  to  say  that  there  is  no  king 
by  the  grace  of  God  ;  and  that  the  king  is  a  miserable  and  sin- 
ful mortal,  just  as  well  as  the  lowest  beggar.  Well,  we  will 
concede  this  man  his  point — we  will  not  be  to  him  a  king  by 
the  grace  of  God,  but  a  king  by  the  wrath  of  God  !  We  will 
show  him  that  we  are  not  yet  quite  like  the  lowest  beggar,  for 
we  still  possess  at  least  wood  enough  to  build  a  pile  of  fagots  for 
him." 

And  as  the  king  thus  spoke,  he  broke  out  into  a  loud  laugh, 
in  which  Gardiner  heartily  chimed. 

"  Here  I  behold  the  indictment  of  two  others  who  deny  the 
king's  supremacy,  continued  Henry,  still  turning  over  the  loaves 
of  the  papers.  They  revile  me  as  a  blasphemer,  because  I  dare 
call  myself  God's  representative — the  visible  head  of  His  holy 
Church  ;  they  say  that  God  alone  is  Lord  of  His  Church,  and 
that  Luther  and  Calvin  are  more  exalted  representatives  of 
God  than  the  king  himself.  Verily  we  must  hold  our  roy- 
alty and  our  God-granted  dignity  very  cheap,  if  we  should  not 
punish  these  transgressors,  who  blaspheme  in  our  sacred  per- 
Bon  God  Himself." 

I!i  continued  turning  over  the  leaves.  Suddenly  a  deep 
flush  of  anger  suffused  his  countenance,  and  a  fierce  curso  burst 
from  his  lips. 

He  threw  the  paper  on  the  table,  and  struck  it  with  liia 


368  HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

clinched  fist.  "  Are  all  the  devils  let  loose,  then  ?  "  yelled  he, 
in  wrath.  "  Does  sedition  blaze  so  wildly  in  my  land,  that  we 
have  no  longer  the  power  to  subdue  it?  Here  a  fanatical  here- 
tic on  the  public  street  has  warned  the  people  not  to  read  that 
holy  book  which  I  myself,  like  a  well-intentioned  and  provident 
father  and  guardian,  wrote  for  my  people,  and  gave  it  them 
that  they  might  be  edified  and  exalted  thereby.  And  this  book 
that  felon  has  shown  to  the  people,  and  said  to  them :  '  You 
call  that  the  king's  book  ;  and  you  are  right ;  for  it  is  a  wicked 
book,  a  work  of  hell,  and  the  devil  is  the  king's  sponsor  ! '  Ah, 
I  see  well  we  must  again  show  our  earnest  and  angry  face  to 
this  miserable,  traitorous  rabble,  that  it  may  again  have  faith 
in  the  king.  It  is  a  wretched,  disgusting,  and  contemptible  mob 
— this  people  !  They  are  obedient  and  humble  only  when  they 
tremble  and  feel  the  lash.  Only  when  they  are  trampled  in  the 
dust,  do  they  acknowledge  that  we  are  their  master  ;  and  when 
we  have  them  racked  and  burnt,  they  have  respect  for  our  ex- 
cellency. "We  must,  however,  brand  royalty  on  their  bodies  so 
that  they  may  be  sensible  of  it  as  a  reality.  And  by  the  eter- 
nal God,  we  will  do  that !  Give  me  the  pen  here  that  I  may 
sign  and  ratify  these  warrants.  But  dip  the  pen  well,  your 
highness,  for  there  are  eight  warrants,  and  I  must  write  my 
name  eight  times.  Ah,  ah,  it  is  a  hard  and  fatiguing  occupation 
to  be  a  king,  and  no  day  passes  without  trouble  and  toil !  " 

"  The  Lord  our  God  will  bless  this  toil  to  you  ! "  said  Gar- 
diner, solemnly,  as  he  handed  the  king  the  pen. 

Henry  was  preparing  to  write,  as  Catharine  laid  her  Land 
on  his,  and  checked  him. 

"  Do  not  sign  them,  my  husband,"  said  she,  in  a  voice  of 
entreaty.  "  Oh,  by  all  that  is  sacred  to  you,  I  conjure  you  not 
to  let  yourself  be  carried  away  by  your  momentary  vexation  ; 
let  not  the  injured  man  be  mightier  in  you  than  the  righteous 
king.  Let  the  sun  set  and  rise  on  your  wrath  ;  and  then,  when 
you  are  perfectly  calm,  perfectly  composed — then  pronounce 
judgment  on  these  accused.  For  consider  it  well,  my  husband, 
these  are  eight  death-warrants  that  you  are  here  about  to  sign  ; 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT,  369 

and  with  these  few  strokes. of  the  pen,  you  will  tear  eight 
human  beings  from  life,  from  family,  and  from  the  world ;  you 
will  take  from  the  mother,  her  son  ;  from  the  wife,  her  husband  ; 
from  the  infant  children,  their  father.  Consider  it,  Henry  ;  it 
is  so  weighty  a  responsibility  that  God  has  placed  in  your  hand, 
and  it  is  presumptuous  not  to  meet  it  in  holy  earnestness  and 
undisturbed  tranquillity  of  mind." 

"  Now,  by  the  holy  mother !  "  cried  the  king,  striking  ve- 
hemently upon  the  table,  "  I  believe,  forsooth,  you  dare  excuse 
traitors  and  blasphemers  of  their  king !  You  have  not  heard 
then  of  what  they  are  accused?  " 

"  I  have  heard  it,"  said  Catharine,  more  and  more  warmly  ; 
"  I  have  heard,  and  I  say,  nevertheless,  sign  not  those  death- 
warrants,  my  husband.  It  is  true  these  poor  creatui-es  have 
grievously  erred,  but  they  erred  as  human  beings.  Then  let 
your  punishment  also  be  human.  It  is  not  wise,  O  king,  to 
want  to  avenge  so  bitterly  a  trifling  injury  to  your  majesty. 
A  king  must  be  exalted  above  reviling  and  calumny.  Like 
the  sun,  he  must  shine  upon  the  just  and  the  unjust,  no  one  of 
whom  is  so  mighty  that  he  can  cloud  his  splendor  and  dim  his 
glory.  Punish  evil-doers  and  criminals,  but  be  noble  and 
magnanimous  toward  those  who  have  injured  your  person." 

"  The  king  is  no  person  that  can  be  injured  !  "  said  Gar- 
diner. '*  The  king  is  a  sublime  idea,  a  mighty,  world-embra- 
cing thought.  Whoever  injures  the  king,  has  not  injured  a 
person,  but  a  divinely  instituted  royalty — the  universal  thought 
that  holds  together  the  whole  world  ! " 

"  Whoever  injures  the  king  has  injured  God  ! "  yelled  the, 
king ;  "  and  whoever  seizes  our  crown  and  reviles  us,  shall 
have  his  hand  struck  off,  and  his  tongue  torn  out,  as  is  done 
to  atheists  and  patricides  I " 

"  Well,  strike  off  their  hand  then,  mutilate  them  ;  but  do 
not  kili  them  !  "  cried  Catharine,  passionately.  **  Ascertain  lit 
leu.-t  \\hetlii T  their  crime  is  so  grievous  as  they  want  to  mako 
you  believe,  my  husband.  Oh,  it-is  so  easy  now  to  be  ac« 
as  a  traitor  ami  aili.-i  ;  !  All  that  in  needed  for  it  is  an  incon- 
10* 


370  HENKT  Yin.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

siderate  word,  a  doubt,  not  as  to  God,  but  to  his  priests  and 
this  Church  which  you,  my  king,  have  established ;  aud  of 
which  the  lofty  and  peculiar  structure  is  to  many  so  new  and 
unusual  that  they  ask  themselves  in  doubt  whether  that  is  a 
Church  of  God  or  a  palace  of  the  king,  and  that  they  lose 
themselves  in  its  labyrinthine  passages,  and  wander  about 
without  being  able  to  find  the  exit." 

"  Had  they  faith,"  said  Gardiner,  solemnly,  "  they  would 
not  lose  their  way ;  and  were  God  with  them,  the  entrance 
would  not  be  closed  to  them." 

"  Oh,  I  well  know  that  you  are  always  inexorable  I "  cried 
Catharine,  angrily.  "  But  it  is  not  to  you  either  that  I  inter- 
cede for  mercy,  but  to  the  king ;  and  I  tell  you,  sir  bishop,  it 
would  be  better  for  you,  and  more  worthy  of  a  priest  of  Chris- 
tian love,  if  you  united  your  prayers  with  mine,  instead  of 
wanting  to  dispose  the  king's  noble  heart  to  severity.  You 
are  a  priest ;  and  you  have  learned  in  your  own  life  that 
there  are  many  paths  that  lead  to  God,  and  fhat  we,  one  and 
all,  doubt  and  are  perplexed  which  of  them  is  right." 

"  How  !  "  screamed  the  king,  as  he  rose  from  his  seat  and 
gazed  at  Catharine  with  angry  looks.  "  You  mean,  then,  that 
the  heretics  also  may  find  themselves  on  a  path  that  leads  to 
God?" 

"  I  mean,"  cried  she,  passionately,  "  that  Jesus  Christ,  too, 
was  called  an  atheist,  and  executed.  I  mean  that  Stephen 
was  stoned  by  Paul,  and  that,  nevertheless,  both  are  now 
honored  as  saints  and  prayed  to  as  such.  I  mean,  that 
Socrates  was  not  damned  because  he  lived  before  Christ,  and 
so  'ould  not  be  acquainted  with  his  religion ;  and  that  Horace 
and  Julius  Caesar,  Phidias  and  Plato,  must  yet  be  called  great 
and  noble  spirits,  even  though  they  were  heathen.  Yes,  my 
lord  and  husband,  I  mean  that  it  behooves  us  well  to  exercise 
gentleness  in  matters  of  religion,  and  that  faith  is  not  to  be 
obtruded  on  men  by  main  force  as  a  burden,  but  is  to  be  be- 
stowed upon  them  as  a  benefit  through  their  own  conviction." 

"  So  you  do  not  hold  these  eight  accused  to  be  criminals 


HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUBT.  371 

worthy  of  death  ?  "  asked  Henry  with  studied  calmness,  and  a 
composure  maintained  with  difficulty. 

"  No,  my  husband !  I  hold  that  they  are  poor,  erring 
mortals,  who  seek  the  right  path,  and  would  willingly  travel 
it ;  and  who,  therefore,  ask  in  doubt  all  along,  '  Is  this  the 
right  way  ? ' ' 

"  It  is  enough  ! "  said  the  king,  as  he  beckoned  Gardiner 
to  him,  and,  leaning  on  his  arm,  took  a  few  steps  across  the 
room.  "  We  will  speak  no  more  of  these  matters.  They 
are  too  grave  for  us  to  wish  to  decide  them  in  the  presence  of 
our  gay  young  queen.  The  heart  of  woman  is  always  inclined' 
to  gentleness  and  forgiveness.  You  should  have  borne  that  in 
mind,  Gardiner,  and  not  have  spoken  of  these  matters  in  the 
queen's  presence." 

"  Sire,  it  was,  however,  the  hour  that  you  appointed  for 
consultation  on  these  matters." 

"  Was  it  the  hour !  "  exclaimed  the  king,  quickly.  "  Well, 
then  we  did  wrong  to  devote  it  to  any  thing  else  than  grave 
employments  ;  and  you  will  pardon  me,  queen,  if  I1>eg  you  to 
leave  me  alone  with  the  bishop.  Affairs  of  state  must  not  be 
postponed." 

He  presented  Catharine  his  hand,  and  with  difficulty,  and 
yet  with  a  smiling  countenance,  conducted  her  to  the  door. 
As  she  stopped,  and,  looking  him  in  the  eye  with  an  expres- 
sion inquiring  and  anxious,  opened  her  lips  to  speak  to  him, 
he  made  an  impatient  gesture  with  his  hand,  and  a  dark  frown 
gathered  on  his  brow. 

"  It  is  late,"  said  he,  hastily,  "  and  we  have  business  of 
state." 

Catharine  did  not  venture  to  speak  ;  she  bowed  in  silence 
and  left  the  room.  The  king  watched  her  with  sullen  brow 
and  angry  looks.  Then  bo  turned  round  to  Gardiner. 

k4  Now,"  asked  he,  "  what  do  you  think  of  the  queen  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  Gardiner,  so  slowly  and  &o  deliberately  that 
each  \\»r<\  hail  time  to  penetrate  the  king's  sensitive  heart  like 
the  prick  of  a  needle — "  I  think  that  aho  does  not  deem  them 


372  HENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COTJBT. 

criminals  that  call  the  holy  book  which  you  have  written  a 
work  of  hell ;  and  that  she  has  a  great  deal  of  sympathy  for 
those  heretics  who  will  not  acknowledge  your  supremacy." 

"  By  the  holy  mother,  I  believe  she  herself  would  speak 
thus,  and  avow  herself  among  my  enemies,  if  she  were  not 
my  wife  !  "  cried  the  king,  in  whose  heart  rage  began  already 
to  seethe  like  lava  in  a  volcano. 

"  She  does  it  already,  although  she  is  your  wife,  sire ! 

She  imagines   her  exalted  position  renders  her  unamenable, 

,and  protects  her  from  your  righteous  wrath ;  therefore  she 

does  what  no  one  else  dares  do,  and  speaks  what  in  the  mouth 

of  any  other  would  be  the  blackest  treason." 

"What  does  she?  and  what  says  she?"  cried  the  king. 
"  Do  not  hesitate  to  tell  me,  your  highness.  It  behooves  me 
well  to  know  what  my  wife  does  and  says." 

"  Sire,  she  is  not  merely  the  secret  patroness  of  heretics 
and  reformers,  but  she  is  also  a  professor  of  their  faith.  She 
listens  to  their  false  doctrine  with  eager  mind,  and  receives  the 
cursed  priests  of  this  sect  into  her  apartments,  in  order  to  hear 
their  fanatical  discourse  and  hellish  inspiration.  She  speaks 
of  these  heretics  as  true  believers  and  Christians  ;  and  denom- 
inates Luther  the  light  that  God  has  sent  into  the  world  to 
illuminate  the  gloom  and  falsehood  of  the  Church  with  the 
splendor  of  truth  and  love — that  Luther,  sire,  who  dared  write 
you  such  shameful  and  insulting  letters,  and  ridiculed  in  such 
a  brutal  manner  your  royalty  and  your  wisdom." 

"  She  is  a  heretic ;  and  when  you  say  that,  you  say  every 
thing ! "  screamed  the  king.  The  volcano  was  ripe  for  an 
eruption,  and  the  seething  lava  must  at  last  have  an  outlet. 
"  Yes,  she  is  a  heretic ! "  repeated  the  king ;  "  and  yet  we 
have  sworn  to  exterminate  these  atheists  from  our  land." 

"  She  very  well  knows  that  she  is  secure  from  your  wrath," 
said  Gardiner,  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders.  "  She  relies  on 
the  fact  that  she  is  the  queen,  and  that  in  the  heart  of  her 
exalted  husband  love  is  mightier  than  the  faith." 

"  Nobody  shall  suppose  that  he  is  secure  from  my  wrath, 


-t. 

.          , 

AND  nis  COURT.  373 


•  » 

and  no  one  shall  rely  on  the  security  afforded  him  by  my  love. 
She  is  a  proud,  arrogant,'  and  audacious  woman  !  "  cried  the 
king,  whose  looks  jr%re  just  then  fixed  again  on  the  chess- 
board, and  whose  sjjite  was  heightened  .by  the  remembrance 
of  the  lost  game.  '^£he  ventures  to  brave  us,  and  to  have  a 
will  other  than  ours.^By  the^  holy  mother,  we  will  endeavor 
to  break  her  stubborjjgss,  and  bend  her  proud  neck  beneath 
our  will  !  Yes,  I  wilr'show  the  world  that  Henry  of  England 
is  still  the  immovably  and  incorruptible.  I  will  give  the 
heretics  an  evidence  th&Ul  am  in  reality  the  defender  and  pro- 
tector of  the  faith  and  qf  religion  in  my  land,  and  that  nobody 
stands  too  high  to  be  >truck-  by^  my  wrath,  and  to  feel  the 
sword  of  justice  on  his  neck.  She  is  a  heretic  ;  and  we  have 
sworn  to  destroy  heretics  with  ilre  and  sword.  We  shall  keep 
our  oath." 

"  And  God  will  bless^you  with  His  blessing.  He  will  sur- 
round your  head  with  a  halo  of  fame  ;  and  the  Church  will 
praise  you  as  her  most  gloTious  pastor,  her  exalted  head." 

"  Be  it  so  !  "  said  the  'king,  as  with  youthful  alacrity  he 
strode  across  the  room  ;  and,  stepping  to  his  writing-table, 
with  a  vigorous  and  fleet  hand  he  wrote  down  a  few  lines. 

Gardiner  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room  with  his  hands 
folded  ;  and  his  lips  murmured  in  an  undertone  a  prayer, 
while  his  large  flashing  eyes  w^re  fastened  on  the  king  with  a 
curious  and  penetrating  expression. 

"  Here,  your  highness,"  the  king  then  said,  "  take  this 
paper  —  take  it  and  order  every  thing  necessary.  It  is  an 
arrest-warrant  ;  and  before  the  night  draws  on,  the  queen 
shall  be  in  the  Tower." 

"  Verily,  the  Lord  is  mighty  in  you  !  "  cried  Gardiner,  as 
ho  took  the  paper  ;  "  the  heavenly  hosts  sing  their  hallelujah. 
and  look  down  with  rapture  on  the  hero  who  subdues  his  own 
heart  to  serve  God  and  the  Church." 

"  Take  it  and  ppced  you'T  "  said  the  king,  hastily.  "  In  a 
few  hours  every  thing  must  be  done.  Give  Earl  Douglas  the 
paper,  and  bid  him  go  with  it  to  the  lord-lieutenant  of  the 


374:  HENRY   THE.    AND   HJ0   COUKT. 

Tower,  so  that  he  himself  may  repair  hither  with  the  yeomen 
of  the  guard.  For  this  woman  is  yet  a  queen,  and  even  in 
the  criminal  I  will  still  recognize  the  queen.  The  lord- 
lieutenant  himself  must  conduct  her  to  the  Tower.  Hasten 
then,  say  I !  But,  hark  you,  keep  all  this  a  secret,  and  let 
nobody  know  any  thing  of  it  till  the  decisive  moment  arrives. 
Otherwise  her  friends  might  take  a  notion  to  implore  my 
mercy  for  this  sinner ;  and  I  abhor  this  whining  and  crying. 
Silence,  then,  for  I  am  tired  and  need  rest  and  sleep.  I  have, 
as  you  say,  just  done  a  work  well  pleasing  to  God  ;  perhaps 
He  may  send  me,  as  a  reward  for  it,  invigorating  and  strength- 
ening sleep,  which  I  have  now  so  long  desired  in  vain." 

And  the  king  threw  back  the  curtains  of  his  couch,  and, 
supported  by  Gardiner,  laid  himself  on  the  downy  cushion. 

Gardiner  drew  the  curtains  again,  and  thrust  the  fatal 
paper  into  his  pocket.  Even  in  his  hands  it  did  not  seem  to 
him  secure  enough.  What  I  might  not  some  curious  eye 
fasten  on  it,  and  divine  its  contents?  Might  not  some  imper 
tinent  and  shameless  friend  of  the  queen  snatch  this  paper 
from  him,  and  carry  it  to  her  and  give  her  warning?  No,  no, 
it  was  not  secure  enough  in  his  hands.  He  must  hide  it  in 
the  pocket  of  his  gown.  There,  no  one  could  find  it,  no  one 
discover  it. 

So  there  he  hid  it.  In  the  gown  with  its  large  folds  it  was 
safe  ;  and,  after  he  had  thus  concealed  the  precious  paper,  he 
left  the  room  with  rapid  strides,  in  order  to  acquaint  Earl 
Douglas  with  the  glorious  result  of  his  plans. 

Not  a  single  time  did  he  look  back.  Had  he  done  so,  he 
would  have  sprung  back  into  that  room  as  a  tiger  pounces  on 
his  prey.  He  would  have  plunged,  as  the  hawk  stoops  at  the 
dove,  at  that  piece  of  white  paper  that  lay  there  on  the  floor, 
exactly  on  the  spot  where  Gardiner  was  before  standing  when  he 
placed  into  his  pocket  the  arrest-warrant  written  by  the  king. 

Ah,  even  the  gown  of  a  priest  is  not  always  close  enough 
to  conceal  a  dangerous  secret ;  and  even  the  pocket  of  a 
bishop  may  sometimes  have  holes  in  it. 


1IENEY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COTJKT.  •        375 

Gardiner  went  away  with  the  proud  consciousness  of  hav- 
ing the  order  of  arrest  in  his  pocket ;  and  that  fatal  paper 
lay  on  the  floor  in  the  middle  of  the  king's  chamber. 

Who  will  come  to  pick  it  up?  Who  will  become  the 
sharer  of  this  dangerous  secret?  To  whom  will  this  mute 
paper  proclaim  the  shocking  news  that  the  queen  has  fallen 
into  disgrace,  and  is  this  very  day  to  be  dragged  to  the  Tower 
as  a  prisoner? 

All  is  still  and  lonely  in  the  king's  apartment.  Nothing 
is  stirring,  not  even  the  heavy  damask  curtains  of  the  royal 
couch. 

The  king  sleeps.  Even  vexation  and  anger  are  a  good 
lullaby  ;  they  have  so  agitated  and  prostrated  the  king,  that  he 
has  actually  fallen  asleep  from  weariness. 

Ah,  the  king  should  have  been  thankful  to  his  wife  for  his 
vexation  at  the  lost  game  of  chess,  and  his  wrath  at  Catha- 
rine's heretical  sentiments.  These  had  fatigued  him  ;  these 
had  lulled  him  to  sleep. 

The  warrant  of  arrest  still  lay  on  the  floor.  Now,  quite 
softly,  quite  cautiously,  the  door  opens.  Who  is  it  that  dares 
venture  to  enter  the  king's  room  unsummoned  and  unan- 
nounced ? 

There  are  only  three  persons  who  dare  venture  that :  the 
queen,  Princess  Elizabeth,  and  John  Hey  wood  the  fool.  Which 
of  the  three  is  it  ? 

It  is  Princess  Elizabeth,  who  comes  to  salute  her  royal 
father.  Every  forenoon  at  this  hour  she  had  found  the  king 
in  his  room.  Where  was  he  then  to-day?  As  she  looked 
around  the  room  with  an  inquiring  and  surprised  air,  her  eye 
fell  on  that  paper  which  lay  there  on  the  floor.  She  picked  it 
up,  and  examined  it  with  childish  curiosity.  What  could  this 
paper  contain?  Surely  it  was  no  secret — else,  it  would  not 
lie  here  on  the  floor. 

She  opened  it  and  read.  Her  fine  countenance  expressed 
horror  ami  amazement  ;  a  low  exclamation  escaped  her  lips. 
But  Elizabeth  had  a  strong  and  resolute  soul ;  and  the  uncx- 


376         '  HESTRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUJRT. 

pected  and  the  surprising  did  not  dull  her  clear  vision,  nor 
cloud  her  sharp  wit.  The  queen  was  in  danger.  The  queen 
was  to  be  imprisoned.  That,  this  dreadful  paper  shrieked  ii. 
her  ear ;  but  she  durst  not  allow  herself  to  be  stunned  by 
it.  She  must  act ;  she  must  warn  the  queen. 

She  hid  the  paper  in  her  bosom,  and  light  as  a  zephyr  she 
floated  away  again  out  of  the  chamber. 

With  flashing  eyes  and  cheeks  reddened  by  her  rapid  race 
Elizabeth  entered  the  queen's  chamber ;  with  passionate  vehe- 
mence she  clasped  her  in  her  arms  and  tenderly  kissed  her. 

"  Catharine,  my  queen,  and  my  mother,"  said  she,  "  we 
have  sworn  to  stand  by  and  protect  each  other  when  danger 
threatens  us.  Fate  is  gracious  to  me,  for  it  has  given  into  my 
hand  the  means  of  making  good  my  oath  this  very  day.  Take 
that  paper  and  read  !  It  is  an  order  for  your  imprisonment, 
made  out  by  the  king  himself.  When  you  have  read  it,  then 
let  us  consider  what  is  to  be  done,  and  how  we  can  avert  the 
danger  from  you." 

"  An  order  of  imprisonment !  "  said  Catharine,  with  a  shud- 
der, as  she  read  it.  "  An  order  of  imprisonment — that  is  to  say, 
a  death-warrant !  For  when  once  the  threshold  of  that  fright- 
ful Tower  is  crossed,  it  denotes  that  it  is  never  to  be  left 
again  ;  and  if  a  queen  is  arrested  and  accused,  then  is  she  also 
already  condemned.  Oh,  my  God,  princess,  do  you  compre- 
hend that — to  have  to  die  while  life  still  throbs  so  fresh  and 
warm  in  our  veins?  To  be  obliged  to  go  to  death,  while 
the  future  still  allures  us  with  a  thousand  hopes,  a  thousand 
wishes  ?  My  God,  to  have  to  descend  into  the  desolate  prison 
and  into  the  gloomy  grave,  while  the  world  greets  us  with 
alluring  voices,  and  spring-tide  has  scarcely  awoke  in  our 
heart ! " 

Streams  of  tears  burst  from  her  eyes,  and  she  hid  her  face 
in  her  trembling  hands. 

"  Weep  not,  queen,"  whispered  Elizabeth,  herself  trem- 
bling and  pale  as  death.  "  Weep  not ;  but  consider  what  is 
to  be  done.  Each  minute,  and  the  danger  increases ;  each 
minute  brings  the  evil  nearer  to  us." 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  377 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Catharine,  as  she  again  raised  her 
head,  and  shook  the  tears  from  her  eyes.  "  Yes,  you  are 
right ;  it  is  not  time  to  weep  and  wail.  Death  is  creeping 
upon  me  ;  but  I — I  will  not  die.  I  live  still ;  and  so  long  as 
there  is  a  breath  in  me  I  will  fight  against  death.  God  will 
assist  me ;  God  will  help  me  to  overcome  this  danger  also,  as 
I' have  already  done  so  many  others." 

"But  what  will  you  do?  where  can  you  begin?  You 
know  not  the  accusation.  You  know  not  who  accuses  you, 
nor  with  what  you  are  charged." 

"  Yet  I  suspect  it !  "  said  the  queen,  musingly.  "  When  I 
now  recall  to  mind  the  king's  angry  countenance,  and  the  ma- 
licious smile  of  that  malignant  priest,  I  believe  I  know  the 
accusation.  Yes — every  thing  is  now  clear  to  me.  Ah,  it  is 
the  heretic  that  they  would  sentence  to  death.  Well,  now,  my 
lord  bishop,  I  still  live ;  and  we  will  see  which  of  us  two  will 
gain  the  victory ! " 

With  proud  step  and  glowing  cheeks  she  hurried  to  the 
door.  Elizabeth  held  her  back.  "  Whither  are  you  going?  " 
cried  she,  in  astonishment. 

"  To  the  king !  "  said  she,  with  a  proud  smile.  "  He  has 
heard  the  bishop ;  now  he  shall  hear  me  also.  The  king's 
disposition  is  fickle  and  easily  changed.  We  will  now  see 
which  cunning  is  the  stronger — the  cunning  of  the  priest  or 
the  cunning  of  the  woman.  Elizabeth,  pray  for  me.  I  go  to 
the  king  ;  and  you  will  either  see  me  free  and  happy,  or  never 
again." 

She  imprinted  a  passionate  kiss  on  Elizabeth's  lips,  and 
hurriedly  left  the  chamber. 


378  HENRY  Vni.    AND    HIS   COURT. 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

.    CHESS-PLAT. 

IT  was  many  days  since  the  king  had  been  as  well  as  he 
was  to-day.  For  a  long  time  he  had  not  enjoyed  such  refresh- 
ing sleep  as  on  the  day  when  he  signed  the  warrant  for  the 
queen's  imprisonment.  But  he  thought  nothing  at  all  about  it. 
Sleep  seemed  to  have  obliterated  all  recollection  of  it  from  his 
memory.  Like  an  anecdote  which  you  listen  to,  and  smile  at 
for  the  moment,  but  soon  forget,  so  had  the  whole  occurrence 
vanished  again  from  him.  It  was  an  anecdote  of  the  moment 
— a  transient  interlude — nothing  further. 

The  king  had  slept  well,  and  he  had  no  care  for  any  thing 
else.  He  stretched  himself,  and  lay  lounging  on  his  couch, 
thinking  with  rapture  how  fine  it  would  be,  if  he  could  enjoy 
such  sweet  and  refreshing  repose  every  day,  and  if  no  bad 
dreams  and  no  fear  would  frighten  away  sleep  from  his  eyes. 
He  felt  very  serene  and  very  good-humored  ;  and  had  any  one 
now  come  to  beg  a  favor  of  the  king,  he  would  have  granted 
it  in  the  first  joy  after  such  invigorating  sleep.  But  he  was 
alone ;  no  one  was  with  him ;  he  must  repress  his  gracious 
desires.  But  no.  "Was  it  not  as  though  something  were  stir- 
ring and  breathing  behind  the  curtains  ? 

The  king  threw  back  the  curtains,  and  a  soft  smile  flitted 
over  bis  features  ;  for  before  his  bed  sat  the  queen.  There  she 
sat  with  rosy  cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes,  and  greeted  him  with 
a  roguish  smile.  • 

"  Ah,  Kate,  it  is  you  ! "  cried  the  king.  "  Well,  now,  I  un- 
derstand'how  it  happened  that  I  have  had  such  a  sound  and 
refreshing  sleep  !  You  stood  by  as  my  good  angel,  and  scared 
the  pains  and  bad  dreams  away  from  my  couch." 

And  as  he  said  this,  he  reached  out  his  hand  and  tenderly 
stroked  her  velvet  €heek.  He  did  not  at  all  recollect  that  he 
had  already,  as  it  were,  devoted  that  charming  head  to  the 
scaffold,  and  that  in  a  few  hours  more  those  bright  eyes  were 


HENKY   Vin.   AND  HIS   COUET.  379 

to  behold  naught  but  the  night  of  the  dungeon.  Sleep,  as  we 
have  said,  had  lulled  to  rest  also  the  recollection  of  this  ;  and 
the  evil  thoughts  had  not  yet  awoke  again  in  him.  To  sign 
an  order  of  arrest  or  a  death-warrant  was  with  the  king  such 
a  usual  and  every-day  matter,  that  it  constituted  no  epoch  in 
his  life,  and  neither  burdened  him  with  troubles  of  conscience 
nor  made  his  heart  shudder  and  tremble. 

But  Catharine  thought  of  it,  and  as  the  king's  hand  stroked 
her  cheek,  it  was  as  though  death  was  just  then  touching  her, 
never  again  to  release  her.  However,  she  overcame  this  mo- 
mentary horror,  and  had  the  courage  to  preserve  her  serene 
and  innocent  air. 

"You  call  me  your  good  angel,  my  husband,"  said  she, 
with  a  smile ;  "  but  yet  I  am  nothing  more  than  your  little 
Puck,  who  bustles  about  you,  and  now  and  then  makes  yon 
laugh  with  his  drolleriss." 

"  And  a  dear  little  Puck  you  are,  Katie,"  cried  the  king, 
who  always  gazed  upon  his  wife's  rosy  and  fresh  countenance 
with  real  satisfaction. 

"  Then  I  will  prove  myself  this  veiy  day  your  Puck,  and 
allow  you  no  more  repose  on  your  couch,"  said  she,  as  she 
made  a  mock  effort  to  raise  him  up.  "Do  you  know,  my 
husband,  why  I  came  here?  A  butterfly  has  tapped  at  my 
window.  Only  think  now,  a  butterfly  in  winter  1  That  beto 
kens  that  this  time  winter  ia  spring ;  and  the  clerk  of  the 
weather  above  there  has  confounded  January  with  March. 
The  butterfly  has  invited  us,  king ;  and  only  see !  the  sun  is 
winking  into  the  window  to  us,  and  says  we  ha\'o  but  to  come 
out,  as  he  has  already  dried  the  walks  in  the  garden  below, 
and  called  forth  a  little  grass  on  the  plat.  And  your  rolling 
chair  stands  all  ready,  ray  lord  and  husband,  and  your  Puck, 
as  you  see,  has  already  put  on  her  furs,  and  clad  herself  in 
nrmor  against  the  winter,  which,  however,  is  not  there  I  " 

"  Well,  then,  help  ine,  my  dearest  Puok,  so  that  I  can 
arise,  and  obey  the  command  of  the  butterfly  and  the  sun 
and  my  lovely  wife,"  cried  the  king,  as  ho  put  his  arm  around 
Catharine's  neck,  and  slowly  raised  himself  from  the  couch. 


380  HENBY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

She  busied  herself  about  him  with  officious  haste  ;  she  put 
her  arm  tenderly  on  his  shoulder  and  supported  him,  and  prop- 
erly arranged  for  him  the  gold  chain,  which  had  slipped  out  of 
place  on  his  doublet,  and  playfully  plaited  the  lace  ruff  which 
was  about  his  neck. 

„  "  Is  it  your  order,  my  husband,  that  your  servants  come? 
— the  master  of  ceremonies,  who,  without  doubt,  awaits  your 
beck  in  the  anteroom — the  lord  bishop — who  awhile  ago  made 
such  a  black-looking  face  at  me?  But  how!  my  husband, 
your  face,  too,  is  now  in  an  eclipse  ?  How  ?  Has  your  Puck 
perchance  said  something  to  put  you  out  of  tune  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed  ! "  said  the  king,  gloomily  ;  but  he  avoided 
meeting  her  smiling  glance  and  looking  in  her  rosy  face. 

The  evil  thoughts  had  again  awoke  in  him  ;  and  he  now 
remembered  the  warrant  of  arrest  that  he  had  given  Gar- 
diner. He  remembered  it,  and  he  regretted  it.  For  she  was 
so  fair  and  lovely — his  young  queen  ;  she  understood  so  well 
by  her  jests  to  smooth  away  care  from  his  brow,  and  affright 
vexation  from  his  soul — she  was  such  an  agreeable  and  sprightly 
pastime,  such  a  refreshing  means  of  driving  away  ennui. 

Not  for  her  sake  did  he  regret  what  he  had  done,  but  only 
on  his  own  account.  From  selfishness  alone,  he  repented  hav- 
ing issued  that-  order  for  the  queen's  imprisonment.  Catha- 
rine observed  him.  Her  glance,  sharpened  by  inward  fear, 
read  his  thoughts  on  his  brow,  and  understood  the  sigh  which 
involuntarily  arose  from  his  breast.  She  again  seized  courage  ; 
she  might  succeed  in  turning  away  by  a  smile  the  sword  that 
hung  over  her  head. 

"  Come,  my  lord  and  husband,"  said  she,  cheerfully,  "  the 
sun  beckons  to  us,  and  the  trees  shake  their  heads  indignantly 
because  we  are  not  yet  there." 

"  Yes,  come,  Kate,"  said  the  king,  rousing  himself  with  an 
effort  from  his  brown  study ;  *'  come,  we  will  go  down  into 
God's  free  air.  Perhaps  He  is  nearer  to  us  there,  and  may 
illuminate  us  with  good  thoughts  and  wholesome  resolutions. 
Come,  Kate." 


HKNBY   Vm.    AMD   SIS   COUBT.  381 

The  queen  gave  him  her  arm,  and,  supported  on  it,  the 
king  advanced  a  few  steps.  But  suddenly  Catharine  stood 
still ;  and  as  the  king  fastened  on  her  his  inquiring  look,  she 
blushed  and  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"  Well !  "  asked  the  king,     "  why  do  you  linger  ?  " 

"  Sire,  I  was  considering  your  words  ;  and  what  you  say 
about  the  sun  and  wholesome  resolutions  has  touched  my 
heart  and  startled  my  conscience.  My  husband,  you  are 
right ;  God  is  there  without,  and  I  dare  not  venture  to  behold 
the  sun,  which  is  God's  eye,  before  I  have  made  my  confession 
and  received  absolution.  Sire,  I  am  a  great  sinner,  and  my 
conscience  gives  me  no  rest.  "Will  you  be  my  confessor,  and 
listen  to  me  ?  " 

The  king  sighed.  "  Ah,"  thought  he,  "  she  is  hurrying  to 
destruction,  and  by  her  own  confession  of  guilt  she  will 
make  it  impossible  for  me  to  hold  her  guiltless  !  " 

"  Speak  !  "  said  he  aloud. 

"  First,"  said  she,  with  downcast  eyes — "first,  I  must  con- 
fess to  you  that  I  have  to-day  deceived  you,  my  lord  and  king. 
Vanity  and  sinful  pride  enticed  me  to  this ;  and  childish  anger 
made  me  consummate  what  vanity  whispered  to  me.  But  I 
repent,  my  king ;  I  repent  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul,  and  I 
swear  to  you,  my  husband — yes,  I  swear  to  you  by  all  that  is 
sacred  to  me,  that  it  is  the  first  and  only  time  that  I  have  de- 
ceived you.  And  never  will  I  venture  to  do  it  again,  for  it  is 
a  dismal  and  awful  feeling  to  stand  before  you  with  a  guilty 
conscience." 

"  And  in  what  have  you  deceived  us,  Kate  ?  "  asked  the 
king  ;  and  his  voice  trembled. 

Catharine  drew  from  her  dress  a  small  roll  of  paper,  und, 
humbly  bowing,  handed  it  to  the  king.  "  Take  and  see  for 
yourself,  my  husband,"  said  she. 

With  hurried  hand  the  king  opened  the  paper,  and  then 
looked  in  uttur  astonishment,  now  at  its  contents,  and  now  at 
the  blushing  face  of  the  queen. 

"  What ! "  said  he,  "  you  give  me  a  pawn  from  the  chess- 
board !  What  docs  that  mean  ?  " 


382  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COTJET. 

"  That  means,"  said  she,  in  a  tone  of  utter  contrition — 
,"  that  means,  that  I  stole  it  from  you,  and  thereby  cheated 
you  out  of  your  victory.  Oh,  pardon  me,  my  husband ! 
but  I  could  no  longer  endure  to  lose  always,  and  I  was  afraid 
you  would  no  more  allow  me  the  pleasure  of  playing  with  you, 
•when  you  perceived  what  a  weak  and  contemptible  antagonist  I 
am.  And  behold,  this  little  pawn  was  my  enemy !  It  stood 
near  my  queen  and  threatened  her  with  check,  while  it  dis- 
covered check  to  my  king  from  your  bishop.  You  were  just 
going  to  make  this  move,  which  was  ruin  to  me,  when  Bishop 
Gardiner  entered.  You  turned  away  your  eyes  and  saluted 
him.  You  were  not  looking  on  the  game.  Oh,  my  lord  and 
husband,  the  temptation  was  too  alluring  and  seductive  ;  and  I 
yielded  to  it.  Softly  I  took  the  pawn  from  the  board,  and 
slipped  it  into  my  pocket.  When  you  looked  again  at  the 
game,  you  seemed  surprised  at  first ;  but  your  magnanimous 
and  lofty  spirit  had  no  suspicion  of  my  base  act ;  so  you  inno- 
cently played  on  ;  and  so  I  won  the  game  of  chess.  Oh,  my 
king,  will  you  pardon  me,  and  not  be  angry  with  me  ?  " 

The  king  broke  out  into  a  loud  laugh,  and  looked  with  an 
expression  of  tenderness  at  Catharine,  who  stood  before  him 
with  downcast  eyes,  abashed  and  blushing.  This  sight  only 
redoubled  his  merriment,  and  made  him  again  and  again  roar 
out  with  laughter. 

"And  is  that  all  your  crime,  Kate?"  asked  he,  at  length, 
drying  his  eyes.  "  You  have  stolen  a  pawn  from  me — this  is 
your  first  and  only  deception  ?  " 

"  Is  it  not  indeed  great  enough,  sire?  Did  I  not  purloin  it 
because  I  was  so  high-minded  as  to  want  to  win  a  game  of 
chess  from  you  ?  Is  not  the  whole  court  even  now  acquainted 
with  my  splendid  luck?  And  does  it  not  know  that  I  have 
been  the  victor  to-day,  whilst  yet  I  was  not  entitled  to  be  so — 
whilst  I  deceived  you  so  shamefully?  " 

u  Now,  verily,"  said  the  king,  solemnly,  "  happy  are  the 
men  who  are  not  worse  deceived  by  their  wives  than  you  have 
deceived  me  to-day ;  and  happy  are  the  women  whose  con- 


HENBY   VIII.    AND   HIS   COUET.  383 

fessions  are  so  pure  and  innocent  as  yours  have  been  to-day ! 
Do  but  lift  up  your  eyes  again,  my  Katie  ;  that  sin  is  forgiven 
you  ;  and  by  God  and  by  your  king  it  shall  be  accounted  to 
you  as  a  virtue." 

He  laid  his  hand  x>n  her  head,  as  if  in  blessing,  and  gazed 
at  her  long  and  silently.  Then,  said  he,  laughingly :  "Accord- 
ing to  this,  then,  my  Kate,  I  should  have  been  the  victor 
of  to-day,  and  not  have  lost  that  game  of  chess." 

"  Xo,"  paid  she,  dolefully,  "I  must  have  lost  it,  if  I  had 
not  stolen  the  pawn." 

Again  the  king  laughed.  Catharine  said,  earnestly :  "  Do. 
but  believe  me,  my  husband,  Bishop  Gardiner  alone  is  the 
cause  of  my  fall.  Because  he  was  by,  I  did  not  want  to  lose. 
My  pride  revolted  to  think  that  this  haughty  and  arrogant 
priest  was  to  be  witness  of  my  defeat.  In  mind,  I  already 
saw  the  cold  and  contemptuous  smile  with  which  he  would 
look  down  on  me,  the  vanquished  ;  and  my  heart  rose  in  re- 
bellion at  the  thought  of  being  humbled  before  him.  And  now 
I  have  arrived  at  the  second  part  of  my  fault  which  I  want  to 
confess  to  you  to-day.  Sire,  I  must  acknowledge  another 
great  fault  to  you.  I  have  grievously  offended  against  you  to- 
day, in  that  I  contradicted  you,  and  withstood  your  wise  and 
pious  words.  Ah,  my  husband,  it  was  not  done  to  spite  you, 
but  only  to  vex  and  annoy  the  haughty  priest.  For  I  must 
confess  to  you,  my  king,  I  hate  this  Bishop  of  Winchester — 
ay,  yet  more — I  have  a  dread  of  him ;  for  my  foreboding 
heart  tells  me  that  he  is  my  enemy,  that  he  is  watching  each 
of  my  look?,  each  of  my  words,  so  that  ho  can  make  from 
tin-in  a  noose  to  strangle  me.  He  is  the  evil  destiny  that 
creeps  up  behind  me*  and  would  one  day  certainly  destroy  me, 
if  your  beneficent  hand  and  your  almighty  arm  did  not  protect 
me.  Oh,  when  I  behold  him,  my  husband,  I  would  always 
gladly  fly  to  your  heart,  and  sny  to  you :  '  Protect  me,  my 
king,  and  have  compassion  on  me  !  Have  faith  in  mo  and  love 
me  ;  for  if  you  do  not,  I  am  lost !  The  evil  fiend  is  there  to 
destroy  me.' " 


384  HENEY   VIH.    AISTD   HIS   COUKT. 

And,  as  she  thus  spoke,  she  clung  affectionately  to  the 
king's  side,  and,  leaning  her  head  on  his  breast,  looked  up  to 
him  with  a  glance  of  tender  entreaty  and  touching  devotion. 

The  king  bent,  down  and  kissed  her  brow.  "  Oh,  sanda 
simplicitas,"  softly  murmured  he — "  she  knows  not  how  nigh 
she  is  to  the  truth,  and  how  much  reason  she  has  for  her 
evil  forebodings  !  "  Then  he  asked  aloud  :  "  So,  Kate,  you 
believe  that  Gardiner  hates  you  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  believe  it,  I  know  it !  "  said  she.  "  He  wounds 
me  wherever  he  can  ;  and  though  his  wounds  are  made  only 
with  pins,  that  comes  only  from  this,  that  he  is  afraid  that 
you  might  discover  it  if  he  drew  a  dagger  on  me,  whilst  you 
might  not  notice  the  pin  with  which  he  secretly  wounds  me. 
And  what  was  his  coming  here  to-day  other  than  a  new  as- 
sault on  me  ?  He  knows  very  well — and  I  have  never  made  a 
secret  of  it — that  I  am  an  enemy  to  this  Roman  Catholic  re- 
ligion the  pope  of  which  has  dared  to  hurl  his  ban  against  my 
lord  and  husband  ;  and  that  I  seek  with  lively  interest  to  be 
instructed  as  to  the  doctrine  and  religion  of  the  so-called  re- 
formers." 

"  They  say  that  you  are  a  heretic,"  said  the  king,  gravely. 

"  Gardiner  says  that !  But  if  I  am  so,  you  are  so  too,  my 
king ;  for  your  belief  is  mine.  If  I  am  so,  so  too  is  Craniner, 
the  noble  Archbishop  of  Canterbury ;  for  he  is  my  spiritual 
adviser  and  helper.  But  Gardiner  wishes  that  I  were  a  her- 
etic, and  he  wants  me  likewise  to  appear  so  to  you.  See,  my 
busband,  why  it  was  that  he  laid  those  eight  death-warrants 
before  you  awhile  ago.  There  were  eight,  all  heretics,  whom 
you  were  to  condemn — not  a  single  papist  among  them  ;  and 
yet  I  know  that  the  prisons  are  full  of  papists,  who,  in  the  fa- 
naticism of  their  persecuted  faith,  have  spoken  words  just  as 
worthy  of  punishment  as  those  unfortunate  ones  whom  you 
were  to-day  to  send  from  life  to  death  by  a  stroke  of  your  pen. 
Sire,  I  should  have  prayed  you  just  as  fervently,  just  as  sup- 
pliantly,  had  they  been  papists  whom  you  were  to  sentence  to 
death !  But  Gardiner  wanted  a  proof  of  my  heresy ;  and 


HENEY  Vni.    AST)   HIS   COURT.  385 

therefore  he  selected  eight  heretics,  for  whom  I  was  to  oppose 
your  hard  decree." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  the  king,  thoughtfully  ;  "  there  was  not 
e  single  papist  among  them !  But  tell  me,  Kate — are  you 
really  a  heretic,  and  an  adversary  of  your  king  ?  " 

With  a  sweet  smile  she  looked  deep  into  his  eyes,  and 
humbly  crossed  her  arms  over  her  beautiful  breast.  "  Your 
adversary  !  "  whispered  she.  "  Are  you  not  my  husband  and 
my  lord  ?  "Was  not  the  woman  made  to  be  subject  to  the 
man?  The  man  was  created  after  the  likeness  of  God,  and 
the  womau  after  the  likeness  of  man.  So  the  woman  is  only 
the  man's  second  self;  and  he  must  have  compassion  on  her  in 
love  ;  and  he  must  give  her  of  his  spirit,  and  influence  her  un- 
derstanding from  his  understanding.  Therefore  your  duty  is 
to  instruct  me,  my  husband ;  and  mine  is,  to  learn  of  you. 
And  of  all  the  women  in  the  world,  to  no  one  is  this  duty  made 
so  easy  as  to  me  ;  for  God  has  been  gracious  to  me  and  given 
me  as  my  husband  a  king  whose  prudence,  wisdom,  and  learn- 
ing are  the  wonder  of  all  the  world."  * 

"  What  a  sweet  little  flatterer  you  are,  Kate  !  "  said  tho 
king,  with  a  smile  ;  "  and  with  what  a  charming  voice  you 
want  to  conceal  the  truth  from  us !  Tho  truth  is,  that  you 
yourself  are  a  very  learned  little  body,  who  has  no  need  at  all 
to  learn  any  thing  from  others,  but  who  would  be  well  able  to 
instruct  othcrs."f 

"  Oh,  if  it  is  so,  as  you  say,"  cried  Catharine,  "  well,  then 
would  I  teach  the  whole  world  to  love  my  king  as  I  do,  and«to 
be  subject  to  him  in  humility,  faithfulness,  and  obedience,  as 
I  am." 

And^as  she  thus  spoke,  ?he  threw  both  her  arms  about  tho 
king's  neck,  and  leaned  her  head  with  a  languishing  cxpn 
upon  his  bre;i 

The  king  kissed  her,  and  pn-ssL-d  her  fast  to  his  heart.     Ho 

•  The  qneen'a  own  worth,  w  they  h«ro  bc«n  given  by  All  historical  writer*.  8««  on 
this  point,  Uurnct,  v»l.  I.,  page  M ;  Tytler,  pag«  418;  Larrey'i  "  U»»tolro  d'AngloUrre, S 
vol.  II.,  page  201 ;  Let),  vol.  L,  page  154. 

t  Historical    The  king's  owa  words. 

17 


386  HENBY   Vm.    ASTD   HIS   COTJET. 

thought  no  longer  of  the  danger  that  was  hovering  over  Catha« 
rine's  head  ;  he  thought  only  that  he  loved  her,  and  that  life 
would  be  very  desolate,  very  tedious  and  sad  without  her. 

"  And  now,  my  husband,"  said  Catharine,  gently  disenga- 
ging herself  from  him — "  now,  since  I  have  confessed  to  you 
and  received  absolution  from  you — now  let  us  go  down  into 
the  garden,  so  that  God's  bright  sun  may  shine  into  our  hearts 
fresh  and  glad.  Come,  my  husband,  your  chair  is  ready ; 
and  the  bees  and  the  butterflies,  the  gnats  and  the  flies,  have 
already  practised  a  hymn,  with  which  they  are  going  to  greet 
you,  my  husband." 

Laughing  and  jesting,  she  drew  him  along  to  the  adjoining 
room,  where  the  courtiers  and  the  rolling-chair  were  standing 
ready  ;  and  the  king  mounted  his  triumphal  car,  and  allowed 
himself  to  be  rolled  through  the  carpeted  corridors,  and  down 
the  staircases,  transformed  into  broad  inclined  planes  of  marble, 
into  the  garden. 

The  air  had  the  freshness  of  wiuter  and  the  warmth  of 
spring.  The  grass  like  a  diligent  weaver  was  already  begin- 
ning to  weave  a  carpet  over  the  black  level  of  the  square  ;  and 
already  here  and  there  a  tiny  blossom,  curious  and  bashful, 
was  peeping  out  and  appeared  to  be  smiling  in  astonishment  at 
its  own  premature  existence.  The  sun  seemed  so  warm  and 
bright ;  the  heavens  were  so  blue  !  At  the  king's  side  went  Cath- 
arine, with  such  rosy  cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes.  Those  eyes 
were  always  directed  to  her  husband ;  and  her  charming  prat- 
tle was  to  the  king  like  the  melodious  song  of  birds,  and  made 
his  heart  leap  for  pleasure  and  delight.  But  how  ?  What 
noise  all  at  once  drowned  Catharine's  sweet  prattle  ?  And 
what  was  it  that  flashed  up  there  at  the  end  of  that  large 
alley  which  the  royal  pair  with  their  suit  had  just  entered  ? 

It  was  the  noise  of  soldiers  advancing ;  and  shining  hel- 
mets and  coats-of-mail  flashed  in  the  sunlight. 

One  band  of  soldiers  held  the  outlet  from  the  alley ;  another 
advanced  up  it  in  close  order.  At  their  head  were  seen  strid- 
ing along  Gardiner  and  Earl  Douglas,  and  at  their  side  the 
lieutenant  of  the  Tower. 


HENKY  VIII.    AND   HIS   COURT.  387 

The  king's  countenance  assumed  a  lowering  and  angry  ex- 
pression and  his  cheeks  were  suffused  with  crimson.  With  the 
quickness  of  youth  he  rose  from  his  chair,  and,  raised  to  his  full 
height,  he  looked  with  flaming  eyes  at  the  procession. 

The  queen  seized  his  hand  and  pressed  it  to  her  breast. 
"  Ah,"  said  she,  with  a  low  whisper,  "  protect  me,  my  husband, 
for  fear  already  overpowers  me  again !  It  is  my  enemy — it  is 
Gardiner — that  comes,  and  I  tremble." 

"  You  shall  no  longer  tremble  before  him,  Kate  ! "  said  the 
king.  "  Woe  to  them,  that  dare  make  King  Henry's  consort 
tremble  !  I  will  speak  with  Gardiner." 

And  almost  roughly  pushing  aside  the  queen,  the  king, 
utterly  heedless  in  his  violent  excitement  of  the  pain  of  his 
foot,  went  in  a  quick  pace  to  meet  the  advancing  troop. 

He  ordered  them  by  his  gesture  to  halt,  and  called  Gardi- 
ner and  Douglas  to  him.  "  What  want  you  here?  And  what 
means  this  strange  array?  "  asked  he,  in  a  rough  tone. 

The  two  courtiers  stared  at  him  with  looks  of  amazement, 
and  durst  not  answer  him. 

"  Well !  "  asked  the  king,  with  ever-rising  wrath,  "  will  you 
at  length  tell  me  by  what  right  you  intrude  into  my  garden 
with  an  armed  host — specially  at  the  same  hour  that  I  am 
here  with  my  consort?  Verily,  there  is  no  sufficient  excuse 
for  such  a  gross  violation  of  the  jeverence  which  you  owe  your 
king  and  master  ;  and  I  marvel,  my  lord  master  of  ceremonies, 
that  you  did  not  seek  to  prevent  this  indecorum !'" 

*  Earl  Douglas  muttered  a  few  words  of  apology,  which  the 
king  did  not  understand,  or  did  not  want  to  understand. 

*'  The  duty  of  a  master  of  ceremonies  ia  to  protect  his  king 
from  every  annoyance,  and  you,  Earl  Douglas,  offer  it  to  me 
yourself.  Perchance  you  -want  thereby  to  show  that  you  arc 
weary  of  your  office.  Well,  then,  my  lord,  I  dismiss  you  from 
it,  and  that  your  presence  may  not  remind  me  of  this  morning's 
transaction,  you  will  leave  the  court  and  London  !  Farewell, 
my  lord !  " 

Earl  Douglas,  turning  pale  and  trembling,  staggered  a  few 


388  HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

steps  backward,  and  gazed  at  the  king  with  astonishment.  He 
wanted  to  speak,  but  Henyy,  with  a  commanding  wave  of 
the  hand,  bade  him  be  silent. 

"  And  now  for  you,  my  lord  bishop  !  "  said  the  king,  and  his 
eyes  were  turned  on  Gardiner  with  an  expression  so  wrathful 
and  contemptuous,  that  he  turned  pale  and  looked  down  to  the 
ground.  "  What  means  this  strange  train  with  which  the  priest 
of  God  approaches  his  royal  master  to-day?  And  under  what 
impulse  of  Christian  love  are  you  going  to  hold  to-day  a  heretic 
hunt  in  the  garden  of  your  king?" 

"  Sire,"  said  Gardiner,  completely  beside  himself,  "  your 
majesty  well  knows  why  I  come ;  it  was  at  your  majesty's 
command  that  I  with  Earl  Douglas  and  the  lieutenant  of  the 
Tower  came,  in  order  to — " 

"  Dare  not  to  speak  further ! "  yelled  the  king,  who  became 
still  more  angry  because  Gardiner  would  not  understand  him 
and  comprehend  the  altered  state  of  tis  mind.  "  How  dare 
you  make  a  pretence  of  my  commands,  whilst  I,  full  of  just 
amazement,  question  you  as- to  the  cause  of  your  appearance  ? 
That  is  to  say,  you  want  to  charge  your  king  with  falsehood. 
You  want  to  excuse  yourself  by  accusing  me.  Ah,  my  worthy 
lord  bishop,  this  time  you  are  thwarted  in  your  plan,  and  I  dis- 
avow you  and  your  foolish  attempt.  No !  there  is  nobody 
here  whom  you  shall  arrest ;  and,  by  the  holy  mother  of  God, 
were  your  eyes  not  blind,  you  would  have  seen  that  here, 
where  the  king  is  taking  an  airing  with  his  consort,  there  could 
be  no  one  whom  these  catchpolls  had  to  look  for !  The  pres- 
ence of  the  royal  majesty  is  like  the  presence  of  God  ;  it  dis- 
penses happiness  and  peace  about  it ;  and  whoever  is  touched 
by  his  glory,  is  graced  and  sanctified  thereby." 

"But,  your  majesty,"  screamed  Gardiner,  whom  anger 
and  disappointed  hope  had  made  forgetful  of  all  considerations, 
"  you  wanted  me  to  arrest  the  queen  ;  you  yourself  gave  me 
the  order  for  it ;  and  now  when  I  come  to  execute  your  will — 
now  you  repudiate  me." 

The  king  uttered  a  yell  of  rage,  and  with  lifted  arm  moved 
some  steps  toward  Gardiner. 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUE1,  389 

But  suddenly  he  felt  his  arm  held  back.  It  was  Catharine, 
•who  had  hurried  up  to  the  king.  "  Oh,  my  husband,"  said  she, 
in  a  low  whisper,  "  whatever  he  may  have  done,  spare  him  ! 
Still  he  is  a  priest  of  the  Lord  ;  and  so  let  his  sacred  robe  pro- 
tect him,  though  perchance  his  deeds  condemn  him  !  " 

"Ah,  do  you  plead  for  him?"  cried  the  king.  "Really, 
my  poor  wife,  you  suspect  not  how  little  ground  you  have  to 
pity  him,  and  to  beg  my  mercy  for  him.*  But  you  are  right. 
We  will  respect  his  cassock,  and  think  no  more  of  what  a  haugh- 
ty and  intriguing  man  is  wrapped  in  it. — But  beware,  priest, 
that  you  do  not  again  remind  me  of  that.  My  wrath  would 
then  inevitably  strike  you ;  and  I  should  have  as  little  mercy 
for  you  as  you  say  I  ought  to  show  to  other  evil-doers.  And 
inasmuch  as  you  are  a  priest,  be  penetrated  with  a  sense  of 
the  gravity  of  your  office  and  the  sacredness  of  your  calling. 
Your  episcopal  see  is  at  Winchester,  and  I  think  your  duties 
call  you  thither.  We  fio  longer  need  you,  for  the  noble  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  is  coming  back  to  us,  and  will  have  to 
fulfil  the  duties  of  his  office  near  us  and  the  queen.  Fare- 
well ! " 

He  turned  his  back  on  Gardiner,  and,  supported  on  Cath- 
arine's arm,  returned  to  his  rolling-chair. 

"  Kate,"  said  he,  "just  now  a  lowering  cloud  stood  in 
your  sky,  but,  thanks  to  your  smile  and  your  innocent  face,  it 
has  passed  harmlessly  over.  Methinks  we  still  owe  you  special 
thanks  for  this ;  and  we  would  like  to  show  you  that  by  some 
office  of  love.  Is  there  nothing  that  would  give  you  sptM-ial 
delight,  Kate?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  she,  with  fervor.  "Two  great  desires 
burn  in  my  heart." 

"Then  name  them,  Kate  ;  and,  by  the  mother  of  God,  if 
it  is  in  the  power  of  a  king  to  fulfil  them,  I  will  do  it." 

Catharine  seized  his  hand  and  pressed  it  to  her  heart. 
"  Sire,"  said  she,  "  they  wanted  to  have  you  sign  eight  death- 
warrants  to-day.  Oh,  my  husband,  make  of  these  eight  crim- 

•  The  king's  own  wonli.— Sec  LeU,  roL  I.,  pag*  188. 


390  IIENKY  Yin.    AND   HIS   COTTBT. 

inals  eight  happy,  thankful  subjects ;  teach  them  to  love  that 
king  whom  they  have  reviled — teach  their  children,  their 
•wives  and  mothers  to  pray  for  you,  whilst  you  restore  life  and 
freedom  to  these  fathers,  these  sons  and  husbands,  and  while 
you,  great  and  merciful,  like  Deity,  pardon  them." 

"  So  shall  it  be  ! "  cried  the  king,  cheerfully.  "  Our  hand 
shall  have  to-day  no  other  work  than  to  rest  in  yours ;  and 
we  will  spare  it  fron>  making  these  eight  strokes  of  the  pen. 
The  eight  evil-doers  are  pardoned ;  and  they  shall  be  free  this 
very  day." 

With  an  exclamation  of  rapturous  delight  Catharine 
pressed  Henry's  hand  to  her  lips,  and  her  face  shone  with 
pure  happiness. 

"And  your  second  wish?"  asked  the  king. 

"  My  second  wish,"  said  she,  with  a  smile,  "  pleads  for  the 
freedom  of  a  poor  prisoner — for  the  freedom  of  a  human  heart, 
sire." 

The  king  laughed.  "A  human  heart?  Does  that  then 
run  about  on  the  street,  so  that  it  can  be  caught  and  made  a 
prisoner  of  ?  " 

"Sire,  you  have  found  it,  and  incarcerated  it  in  your 
daughter's  bosom.  You  want  to  put  Elizabeth's  heart  in 
fetters,  and  by  an  unnatural  law  compel  her  to  renounce  her 
freedom  of  choice.  Only  think — to  want  to  bid  a  woman's 
heart,  before  she  can  love,  to  inquire  first  about  the  genealo- 
gical tree,  and  to  look  at  the  coat-of-arms  before  she  notices 
the  man ! " 

"  Oh,  women,  women,  what  foolish  children  you  are, 
though  !"  cried  the  king,  laughingly.  "  The  question  is  about 
thrones,  and  you  think  about  your  hearts  !  But  come,  Kate, 
you  shall  still  further  explain  that  to  me ;  and  we  will  not 
take  back  our  word,  for  we'have  given  it  you  from  a  free  and 
glad  heart." 

He  took  the  queen's  arm,  and,  supported  on  it,  walked 
slowly  up  the  alley  with  her.  The  lords  and  ladies  of  the 
court  followed  them  in  silence  and  at  a  respectful  distance ; 


HENKY   Vin.   AKD   HIS   COURT.  391 

and  no  one  suspected  that  this  woman,  who  was  stepping  along 
so  proud  and  magnificent,  had  but  just  now  escaped  an  imminent 
peril  of  her  life ;  that  this  man,  who  was  leaning  on  her  arm 
with  such  devoted  tenderness,  had  but  a  few  hours  before  re- 
solved on  her  destruction.* 

And  whilst  chatting  confidentially  together  they  both  wan- 
dered through  the  avenues,  two  others  with  drooping  head  and 
pale  face  left  the  royal  castle,  which  was  to  be  to  them  hence- 
forth a  lost'  paradise.  Sullen  spite  and  raging  hate  were  in 
their  hearts,  but  yet  they  were  obliged  to  endure  in  silence ; 
they  were  obliged  to  smile  and  to  seem  harmless,  in  order  not 
to  prepare  a  welcome  feast  for  the  malice  of  the  court.  They 
felt  the  spiteful  looks  of  all  these  courtiers,  although  they  passed 
by  them  with  downcast  eyes.  They  imagined  they  heard  their 
malicious  whispers,  their  derisive  laughter  ;  and  it  pierced  their 
hearts  like  the  stab  of  a  dagger. 

At  length  they  had  surmounted  it — at  length  the  palace 
lay  behind  them,  and  they  were  at  least  free  to  pour  out  in 
words  the  agony  that  consumed  them — free  to  be  able  to  break 
out  into  bitter  execrations,  into  curses  and  lamentations. 

"Lost !  all  is  lost ! "  said  Earl  Douglas  to  himself  in  a  hollow 
voice.  "  I  am  thwarted  in  all  my  plans.  I  have  sacrificed  to 
the  Church  my  life,  my  means,  ay,  even  my  daughter,  and  it 
has  all  been  in  vain.  And,  like  a  beggar,  I  now  stand  on  the 
street  forsaken  and  without  comfort ;  and  our  holy  mother  the 
Church  will  no  longer  heed  the  son  who  loved  her  and  sacri- 
ficed himself  for  her,  since  he  was  so  unfortunate,  and  his 
sacri6ce  unavailing." 

"  Despair  not !  "  said  Gardiner,  solemnly.  "  Clouds  gather 
above  us ;  but  they  are  disncrscd  again.  And  after  the  day 
of  storm,  comes  again  the.  day  of  light.  Our  day  also  will 
come,  my  friend.  Now  we  go  hence,  our  heads  strewn  with 
ashes,  and  bowed  at  heart ;  but,  believe  me,  wo  shall  one  day 
come  again  with  shining  face  and  exultant  heart;  and  the 

*  All  this  plot  Instigated  t>y  Gardiner  against  tbo  quetn  It,  In  minutest  detail*, 
historically  true,  and  U  found  mbsUntltlly  the  Mine  In  all  historical  work*. 


392  HENBY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

flaming  sword  of  godly  wrath  will  glitter  in  our  hands,  and  a 
purple  robe  will  enfold  us,  dyed  in  the  blood  of  heretics  whom 
we  offer  up  to  the  Lord  our  God  as  a  well-pleasing  sacrifice. 
God  spares  us  for  a  better  time  ;  and  our  banishment,  believe 
me,  friend,  is  but  a  refuge  that  God  has  prep'ared  for  us  this 
evil  time  which  we  are  approaching." 

"  You  speak  of  an  evil  time,  and  nevertheless  you  hope, 
your  highness?"  asked  Douglas,  gloomily. 

"  And  nevertheless  I  hope  ! "  said  Gardiner,  with  a  strange 
and  horrible  smile,  and,  bending  down  closer  to  Douglas,  he 
whispered  :  "  the  king  has  only  a  few  days  more  to  live.  He 
does  not  suspect  how  near  be  is  to  his  death,  and  nobody  has 
the  courage  to  tell  him.  But  his  physician  has  confided  it  to 
me.  His  vital  forces  are  consumed,  and  death  stands  already 
before  his  door  to  throttle  him." 

"  And  when  he  is  dead,"  said  Earl  Douglas,  shrugging  his 
shoulders,  "  his  son  Edward  will  be  king,  and  those  heretical 
Seymours  will  control  the  helm  of  state  !     Call  you  that  hope, 
your  highness  ?  " 
"  I  call  it  so." 

"  Do  you  not  know  that  Edward,  young  as  he  is,  is  never- 
theless a  fanatical  adherent  of  the  heretical  doctrine,  and  at  the 
same  time  a  furious  opponent  of  the  Church  in  which  alone  is 
salvation  ?  " 

"  I  know  it,  but  I  know  also  that  Edward  is  a  feeble  boy  ; 
and  there  is  current  in  our  Church  a  holy  prophecy  which 
predicts  that  his  reign  is  only  of  short  duration.  God  only 
knows  what  his  death  will  be,  but  the  Church  has  often  before 
seen  her  enemies  die  a  sudden  death.  Death  has  been  often  be- 
fore this  the  most  effective  ally  of  our  holy  mother  the  Church. 
Believe  me  then,  my  son,  and  hopex  for  I  tell  you  Edward's  rule 
will  be  of  brief  duration.  And  after  him  she  will  ascend  the 
throne,  the  noble  and  devout  Mary,  the  rigid  Catholic,  who 
.hates  heretics  as  much  as  Edward  loves  them.  Oh,  friend, 
when  Mary  ascends  the  throne,  we  shall  rise  from  our  humili- 
ation, and  the  dominion  will  be  ours.  Then  will  all  England 


HRJTBY   Yin.    AND    HIS    COUET.  393 

become,  as  it  were,  a  single  great  temple,  and  the  fagot-piles 
about  the  stake  are  the*  altars  on  which  we  will  consume  the 
heretics,  and  their  shrieks  of  agony  are  the  holy  psalms  which 
we  will  make  them  strike  up  to  the  honor  of  God  and  His  holy 
Church.  Hope  for  this  time,  for  I  tell  you  it  will  soon  come." 

"  If  you  say  so,  your  highness,  then  it  will  come  to  pass,'' 
said  Douglas,  significantly.  "  I  will  then  hope  and  wait.  I 
will  save  myself  from  evil  days  in  Scotland,  and  wait  for  the 
good." 

"  And  I  go,  as  this  king  by  the  wrath  of  God  has  com- 
manded, to  my  episcopal  seat.  The  wrath  of  God  will  soon 
call  Henry  hence.  May  his  dying  hour  be  full  of  torment,  and 
may  the  Holy  Father's  curse  be  realized  and  fulfilled  in  him  ! 
Farewell !  We  go  with  palms  of  peace  forced  on  us  ^  but  we 
will  return  with  the  flaming  sword,  and  our  hands  will  be  drip- 
ping with  heretic  blood." 

They  once  more  shook  hands  and  silently  departed,  and 
before  evening  came  on  they  had  both  left  London."* 

A  short  time  after  this  eventful  walk  in  the  garden  of 
Whitehall,  the  queen  entered  the  apartments  of  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  who  hastened  to  meet  her  with  a  burst  of  joy,  and 
clasped  her  wildly  .in  her  arms. 

•  Gardiner's  prophecy. was  soon  fulfilled.  A  few  days  after  Gardiner  had  fallen  into 
disgrace,  Henry  the  Eighth  died,  and  bis  son  Edward,  yet  a  minor,  ascended  the  throne. 
Bat  bin  rule  was  of  brief  duration.  After  a  reign  of  scarcely  six  years,  he  died  a  youth 
of  the  age  of  sixteen  years,  and  hit  sister  Mary,  called  the  Catholic,  ascended  the 
throne.  Her  first  act  was  to  release  Gardiner,  who  under  Edward's  reign  had  been 
confined  as  a  prisoner  In  the  Tower,  and  to  appoint  him  her  minister,  and  later,  to  tbs 
place  of  lord  chancellor.  He  was  one  of  the  most  furious  persecutors  of  the  Reform- 
ers. Once  he  said  at  a  council  In  the  presence  of  the  bigoted  quern  :  "  Tb«  se  here- 
tics bare  a  soul  so  black  that  It  can  be  washed  clean  only  In  their  own  blood."  Ho  It 
was,  too,  ^rho  urged  the  queen  to  such  severe  and  odious  measures  against  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  and  caused  her  to  be  a  second  time  declared  a  bastard  and  unworthy  of  suc- 
ceeding to  the  throne.  When  Mary  died,  Gardiner  performed.  In  Westminster  Abbey, 
where  she  was  entombed,  the  service  for  the  dead.  In  tho  presence  of  her  incoeNor, 
Queen  ElUabetb.  Gardiner's  dboourM  was  an  enthusiastic  xulnglnra  of  the  deceased 
qiit- en,  and  be  wt  forth,  as  her  special  merit,  that  she  hntrd  the  heretics  so  ardently  and 
tei  ao  mnny  of  them  executed.  He  cloned  with  an  Invective  agalnM  the  lYottMtanU, 
In  which  be  so  little  spared  the  young  queen,  and  spoke  of  her  in  such  Injurious  terms, 
that  he  was  that  very  day  committed  to  prison.— Letl,  vol.  I.,  pap  814. 

17* 


394-  HENET   VIH.    AND    HIS   COURT. 

"  Saved  !"  whispered  she.  "  The  danger  is  overcome,  and 
again  you  are  the  mighty  queen,  the  adored  wife  !  " 

"  And  I  have  you  to  thank  that  I  am  so,  princess !  With- 
out that  warrant  of  arrest  which  you  brought  me,  I  was  lost. 
Oh,  Elizabeth,  but  what  a  martyrdom  it  was  !  To  smile  and 
jest,  whilst  my  heart  trembled  with  dread  and  horror ;  to  ap- 
pear innocent  and  unembarrassed,  whilst  it  seemed  to  me  as 
if  I  heard  already  the  whiz  of  the  axe  that  was  about  to  strike 
my  neck !  Oh,  my  God,  I  passed  through  the  agonies  and 
the  dread  of  a  whole  lifetime  in  that  one  hour  !  My  soul  has 
been  harassed  till  it  is  wearied  to  death,  and  my  strength  is 
exhausted.  I  could  weep,  weep  continually  over  this  wretched, 
deceitful  world,  in  which  to  wish  right  and  to  do  good  avail 
nothing  ;  but  in  which  you  must  dissemble  and  lie,  deceive  and 
disguise  yourself,  if  you  do  not  want  to  fall  a  victim  to  wicked- 
ness and  mischief.  But  ah,  Elizabeth,  even  my  tears  I  dare 
shed  only  in  secret,  for  a  queen  has  no  right  to  be  melancholy. 
She  must  seem  ever  cheerful,  ever  happy  and  contented  ;  and 
only  God  and  the  still,  silent  night  know  her  sighs  and  her 
tears." 

"  And  you  may  let  me  also  see  them,  queen,"  said  Eliza- 
beth, heartily ;  "  for  you  well  know  you  may  trust  and  rely  on 
me." 

Catharine  kissed  her  fervently.  "  You  have  done  me  a 
great  service  to-day,  and  I  have  come,"  said  she,  "  to  thank 
you,  not  with  sounding  words  only,  but  by  deeds.  Elizabeth, 
your  wish  will  be  fulfilled.  The  king  will  repeal  the  law 
which  was  to  compel  you  to  give  your  hand  only  to  a  husband 
of  equal  birth." 

"  Oh,"  cried  Elizabeth,  with  flashing  eyes,  "  then  I  shall, 
perhaps,  some  day  be  able  to  make  him  whom  I  love  a 
king." 

Catharine  emiled.  "  You  have  a  proud  and  ambitious 
heart,"  said  frhe.  "  God  has  endowed  you  with  extraordinary 
ability.  Cultivate  it  and  seek  to  increase  it ;  for  my  prophetic 
heart  tells  me  that  you  are  destined  to  become,  one  day  Queen 


HENKY   VHI.    AND   HIS   COUBT.  395 

of  England.*  But  who  knows  whether  then  you  will  still  wish 
to  elevate  him  whom  you  now  love,  to  he  your  husband  ?  A 
queen,  as  you  will  be,  sees  with  other  eyes  than  {hose  of  a 
young,  inexperienced  maiden.  Perchance  I  may  not  have  done 
right  in  moving  the  king  to  alter  this  law  ;  for  I  am  not  ac- 
quainted with  the  man  that  you  love  ;  and  who  knows  whether 
he  is  worthy  that  you  should  bestow  on  him  your  heart,  so 
innocent  and  pure  ?  " 

Elizabeth  threw  both  her  arms  about  Catharine's  neck,  and 
clung  tenderly  to  her.  "  Oh,"  said  she,  "  he  would  be  worthy  to 
be  loved  even  by  you,  Catharine ;  for  he  is  the  noblest  and 
handsomest  cavalier  in  the  whole  world  ;  and  though  he  is  no 
king,  yet  he  is  a  king's  brother-in-law,  and  will  some  day  be  a 
king's  uncle." 

Catharine  felt  her  heart,  as  it  were,  convulsed,  and  a  slight 
tremor  ran  through  her  frame.  "  And  am  I  not  to  learn  his 
name  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  Yes,  I  will  tell  you  it  now ;  for  now  there  is  no  longer 
danger  in  knowing  it.  The  name  of  him  whom  I  love,  queen, 
is  Thomas  Seymour." 

Catharine  uttered  a  scream,  and  pushed  Elizabeth  passion- 
ately away  from  her  heart.  "Thomas  Seymour?"  cried 
ehe,  in  a  menacing  tone.  "  What !  do  you  dare  love  Thomas 
Seymour  ?  " 

"  And  why  should  I  not  dare  ?  "  asked  the  young  girl  in 
astonishment.  "  Why  should  I  not  give  him  my  heart,  since, 
thanks  to  your  intercession,  I  am  no  longer  bound  to  choose  a 
husband  of  equal  birth?  Is  not  Thomas  Seymour  one  of  the 
first  of  this  land?  Docs  not  all  England  look  on  him  with 
pride  and  tenderness  ?  Does  not  every  woman  to  whom  he 
deigns  a  look,  feel  herself  honored?  Docs  not  the  king  himself 
smile  and  feel  more  pleased  at  heart,  when  Thomas  Seymour, 
that  young,  bold,  ami  spirited  hero,  stands  by  his  side?" 

"  You  are  right  1  "  said  Catharine,  whose  heart  every  one 
of  these  enthusiastic  words  lacerated  like  the  stab  of  a  dagger, 
•  Cttbkrine'*  own  word*.— Soc  Lctl,  roL  I.,  p»go  171 


396  HENKY   VHI.    AOT)   HIS   COURT. 

— "  yes,  you  are  right.  He  is  worthy  of  being  loved  by  you — • 
and  you  could  hit  upon  no  better  choice.  It  was  only  the 
first  surprise  that  made  me  see  things  otherwise  than  they  are. 
Thomas  Seymour  is  the  brother  of  a  queen  :  why  then  should 
he  not  also  be  the  husband  of  a  royal  princess  ?  "  . 

With  a  bashful  blush,  Elizabeth  hid  her  smiling  face  in 
Catharine's  bosom.  She  did  not  see  with  what  an  expression 
of  alarm  and  agony  the  queen  observed  her ;  how  her  lips 
were  convulsively  compressed,  and  her  cheeks  covered  with  a 
death-like  pallor. 

"And  he?"  asked  she,  in  a  low  tone.  "  Does  Thomas 
Seymour  love  you?  " 

Elizabeth  raised  her  head  and  looked  at  the  questioner  in 
amazement.  "  How  !  "  said  she.  "  Is  it  possible,  then,  to 
love,  if  you  are  not  loved?" 

"  You  are  right,"  sighed  Catharine.  "  One  must  be  very 
humble  and  silly  to  be  able  to  do  that." 

"  My  God !  how  pale  you  are,  queen  !  "  cried  Elizabeth, 
who  just  now  noticed  Catharine's  pale  face.  "  Your  features 
are  distorted ;  your  lips  tremble.  My  God !  what  does  this 
mean  ?  " 

"  It  is  notHing ! "  said  Catharine,  with  a  smile  full  of  agony. 
"The  excitement  and  alarm  of  to-day  have  exhausted  my 
strength.  That  is  all.  Besides,  a  new  grief  threatens  us, 
of  which  you  as  yet  know  nothing.  The  king  is  ill.  A 
sudden  dizziness  seized  him,  and  made  him  fall  almost  life- 
less at  my  side.  I  came  to  bring  you  the  king's  message ; 
now  duty  calls  me  to  my  husband's  sick-bed.  Farewell, 
Elizabeth." 

She  waved  a  good-by  to  her  with  her  hand,  and  with  bur-, 
ried  step  left  the  room.  She  summoned  up  courage  to  con- 
ceal the  agonies  of  her  soul,  and  to  pass  proud  and  stately 
through  the  halls.  To  the  courtiers  bowing  before  her,  she 
would  still  be  the  queen,  and  no  one  should  suspect  what 
agony  was  torturing  her  Tvithin  like  flames  of  fire.  But  at 
last  arrived  at  her  boudoir — at  last  sure  of  being  overheard  and 


HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS    COURT.  397 

observed  by  no  one,  she  was  no  longer  the  queen,  but  only  the 
agonized,  passionate  woman. 

She  sank  on  her  knees,  and  cried,  with  a  heart-rending 
wail  of  anguish  :  "  My  God,  my  God,  grant  that  I  may  be- 
come mad,  so  that  I  may  no  longer  know  that  he  has  forsaken 
me!" 


CHAPTER     XXXVI. 

THE  CATASTROPHE. 

AFTER  days  of  secret  torture  and  hidden  tears,  after  nights 
of  sobbing  anguish  and  wailing  sorrow,  Catharine  had  at  last 
attained  to  inward  peace ;  she  had  at  last  taken  a  firm  and 
decisive  resolution. 

The  king  was  sick  unto  death  ;  and  however  much  she  had 
suffered  and  endured  from  him,  still  he  was  her  husband  ;  and 
she  would  not  stand  by  his  death-bed  as  a  perjured  and  de- 
ceitful woman ;  she  would  not  be  constrained  to  cast  down 
her  eyes  before  the  failing  gaze  of  the  dying  king.  She  would 
renounce  her  love — that  love,  which,  however,  had  been  as 
pure  and  chaste  as  a  maiden's  prayer — that  love,  which  was 
as  unapproachably  distant  as  the  blush  of  morn,  and  yet  had 
stood  above  her  so  vast  and  brilliant,  and  had  irradiated  thq 
gloomy  pathway  of  her  life  with  celestial  light. 

She  would  make  the  greatest  of  sacrifices  ;  she  would  give 
her  lover  t«j  another.  Elizabeth  loved  him.  Catharine  would 
not  investigate  and  thoroughly  examine  the  point,  whether 
Thomas  Seymour  returned  her  love,  and  whether  the  outh  he 
had  taken  to  her,  the  queen,  was  really  nothing  more  than  a 
fancy  of  the  brain,  or  a  falsehood.  No,  she  did  not  believe  it ; 
she  did  not  believe  that  Thomas  Seymour  was  capable  of 
treachery,  of  double  dealing.  But  Elizabeth  loved  him  ;  and 
she  was  young  and  beautiful,  and  a  great  future  lay  before  her. 
Catharine  loved  Thomas  Seymour  strongly  enough  not  to 
want  to  deprive  hiiy  of  this  future,  but  gladly  to  present  her- 
self a  sacrifice  to  the  happiness  of  her  lover.  What  waa  At 


398  HENKY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

— the  woman  matured  in  grief  and  suffering — in  comparison 
with  this  youthful  and  fresh  blossom,  Elizabeth  ?  What  had 
she  to  offer  her  beloved  further  than  a  life  of  retirement,  of 
love,  and  of  quiet  happiness  ?  When  once  the  king  is  dead  and 
sets  her  free,  Edward  the  Sixth  ascends  the  throne  ;  and  Cath- 
arine then  is  nothing  more  than  the.  forgotten  and  disregarded 
widow  of  a  king ;  while  Elizabeth,  the  king's  sister,  may  per- 
haps bring  a  crown  as  her  dower  to  him  whom  she  loves. 

Thomas  Seymour  was  ambitious.  Catharine  knew  that. 
A  day  might  come  when  he  would  repent  of  having  chosen 
the  widow  of  a  king  instead  of  the  heiress  to  a  throne. 

Catharine  would  anticipate  that  day.  She  would  of  her 
own  free-will  resign  her  lover  to  Princess  Elizabeth.  She 
had  by  a  struggle  brought  her  mind  to  this  sacrifice  ;  she  had 
pressed  her  hands  firmly  on  her  heart,  so  as  not  to  hear  how  it 
wailed  and  wept. 

She  went  to  Elizabeth,  and  said  to  her  with  a  sweet  smile  : 
"  To-day  I  will  bring  your  lover  to  you,  princess.  The  king 
has  fulfilled  his  promise.  He  has  to-day  with  his  last  dying 
strength  signed  this  act,  which  gives  you  liberty  to  choose  your 
husband,  not  from  the .  ranks  of  princes  alone,  but  to  follow 
your  own  heart  in  your  choice.  I  will  give  this  act  to  your 
lover,  and  assure  him  of  my  assistance  and  aid.  The  king  is 
suffering  very  much  to-day,  and  his  consciousness  fails  more 
and  more.  But  be  certain,  if  he  is  in  a  condition  to  hear  me, 
I  will  spend  all  my  powers  of  persuasion  in  inclining  him  to 
your  wish,  and  in  moving  him  to  give  his  consent  to  your 
marriage  with  Earl  Sudley.  I  now  go  to  receive  the  earl. 
So  tarry  in  your  room,  princess,  for  Seymour  will  soon  come 
to  bring  you  the  act." 

Whilst  she  thus  spoke,  it  seemed  to  her  as  though  her 
heart  were  pierced  by  red-hot  daggers  ;  as  though  a  two-edged 
sword  were  cleaving  her  breast.  But  Catharine  had  a  strong 
and  courageous  soul.  She  had  sworn  to  herself  to  endure  this 
torture  to  the  end  ;  and  she  endured  it.  Tfy)  writhing  of  her 
lips,  no  sigh,  no  outcry,  betrayed  the  pain  that  she  was  suffer- 


HENBY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUKT.  399 

ing.  And  if,  indeed,  her  cheeks  were  pale,  and  her  eye  dim, 
they  were  so  because  she  had  spent  nights  watching  by  her 
husband's  sick-bed,  and  because  she  was  mourning  for  the 
dying  king. 

She  had  the  heroism  to  embrace  tenderly  this  young  maiden 
to  whom  she  was  just  going  to  present  her  love  as  a  sacrifice, 
and  to  listen  with  a  smile  to  the  enthusiastic  words  of  gratitude, 
of  rapture  and  expectant  happiness  which  Elizabeth  addressed 
to  her. 

With  tearless  eyes  and  firm  step  she  returned  to  her  own 
apartments ;  and  her  voice  did  not  at  all  tremble,  as  she  bade 
the  chamberlain  in  attendance  to  summon  to  her  the  master 
of  horse,  Earl  Sudley.  Only  she  had  a  feeling  as  though  her 
heart  was  broken  and  crushed  ;  and  quite  softly,  quite  humbly, 
she  whispered :  "  I  shall  die  when  he  is  gone.  But  so  long  as 
he  is  here,  I  will  live  ;  and  he  shall  not  have  a  suspicion  of 
what  I  suffer !  " 

And  while  Catharine  suffered  so  dreadfully,  Elizabeth  was 
jubilant  with  delight  and  rapture  ;  for  at  last  she  stood  at  the 
goal  of  her  wishes,  and  this  very  day  she  was  to  become  the 
betrothed  of  her  lover.  Oh,  how  slow  and  sluggish  crept  those 
minutes  along !  How  many  eternities  had  she  still  to  wait 
before  he  would  come — he,  her  Jover,  and  soon  her  husband  ' 
Was  he  already  with  the  queen?  Could  she  expect  him 
already  ?  She  stood  as  if  spellbound  at  the  window,  and  looked 
down  into  the  court-yard.  Through  that  great  gateway  over 
there  he  must  come ;  through  that  door  yonder  ho  must  go, 
in  order  to  reach  the  queen's  apartments. 

She  uttered  an  exclamation,  and  a  glowing  blush  flitted  across 
her  face.  There,  there,  he  was.  Yonder  drew  up  his  equipage  ; 
his  gold-laced  lackeys  opened  the  door  and  ho  alighted.  How 
handsome  he  was,  and  how  magnificent  to  look  upon  1  How 
noble  and  proud  his  tall  figure  1  How  regularly  beautiful  his 
fresh,  youthful  face  !  How  saucy  the  hauphty  smile  about  his 
mwth  ;  and  how  his  eyes  flamed  and  flashed  and  shone  in 
wantonness  and  youthful  happiness.  His  look  glanced  for  a 


400  HENEY    VIH.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

moment  at  Elizabeth's  window.  He  saluted  her,  and  then 
entered  the  door  leading  to  the  wing  of  the  palace  of  "White- 
hall occupied  by  the  queen.  Elizabeth's  heart  beat  so  violent- 
ly that  she  felt  almost  suffocated.  Now  he  must  have  reached 
the  great  staircase — now  he  was  above  it — now  he  was  enter- 
ing the  queen's  apartments — he  traverses  the  first,  the  second, 
the  third  chamber.  In  the  fourth  Catharine  was  waiting  for 
him. 

Elizabeth  would  have  given  a  year  of  her  life  to  hear  what 
Catharine  would  say  to  him,  and  what  reply  he  would  make 
to  the  surprising  intelligence — a  year  of  her  life  to  be  able  to 
see  his  rapture,  his  astonishment,  and  his  delight.  He  was  so 
handsome  when  he  smiled,  so  bewitching  when  his  eyes  blazed 
with  love  and  pleasure. 

Elizabeth  was  a  young,  impulsive  child.  She  had  a  feel- 
ing as  if  she  must  suffocate  in  the  agony  of  expectation  ;  her 
heart  leaped  into  her  mouth  ;  her  breath  was  stifled  in  her 
breast,  she  was  so  impatient  for  happiness. 

"  Oh,  if  he  does  not  come  soon  I  shall  die  1"  murmured  she. 
"  Oh,  if  I  could  only  at  least  see  him,  or  only  hear  him ! "  All 
at  once  she  stopped ;  her  eyes  flashed  up,  and  a  bewitching 
smile  flitted  across  her  features.  "  Yes,"  said  she,  '•  I  will 
see  him,  and  I  will  hear  him*  I  can  do  it,  and  I  will  do  it. 
I  have  the  key  which  the  queen  gave  me,  and  which  opens  the 
.door  that  separates  my  rooms  from  hers.  With  that  key  I 
may  reach  her  bed-chamber,  and  next  to  the  bed-chamber  is 
her  boudoir,  in  which,  without  doubt,  she  will  receive  the 
earl.  I  will  enter  quite  softly,  and,  hiding  myself  behind  the 
hanging  which  separates  the  bed-chamber  from  the  bou- 
doir, I  shall  be  able  to  see  him,  and  hear  every  thing  that 
he  says !  " 

She  laughed  out  loud  and  merrily,  like  a  child,  and  sprang  for 
the  key,  which  lay  on  her  writing-table.  Like  a  trophy  of  vic- 
tory she  swung  it  high  above  heron  her  hand  and  cried,  "I 
will  see  him  !"  Then  light,  joyful,  and  with  beaming  eye,  she 
left  the  room. 


HENRY   Vin..  AND   1IIS   COURT.  401 

She  had  conjectured  rightly.  Catharine  received  the  earl  in 
her  boudoir.  She  sat  on  the  divan  standing  opposite  the  door 
which  led  into  the  reception-room.  That  door  w:is  open,  and 
so  Catharine  had  a  perfect  view  of  the  whole  of  that  large 
space.  She  could  see  the  earl  as  he  traversed  it.  She  could 
once  more  enjoy,  with  a  rapture  painfully  sweet,  his  proud- 
Beauty,  and  let  her  looks  rest  on  him  with  love  and  adoration. 
But  at  length  he  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  boudoir ;  and 
now  there  was  an  end  of  her  happiness,  of  her  sweet  dream, 
and  of  her  hopes  and  her  rapture.  She  was  nothing  more  than 
the  queen,  the  wife  of  a  dying  king ;  no  longer  Earl  Seymour's 
beloved,  no  longer  his  future  and  his  happiness. 

She  had  courage  to  greet  him  with  a  smile ;  and  her  voice 
did  not  tremble  when  she  bade  him  shut  the  door  leading  into 
the  hall,  and  drop  the  hanging.  He  did  so,  gazing  at  her 
with  looks  of  surprise.  He  did  not  comprehend  that  she  dared 
give  him  an  interview  ;  for  the  king  was  still  alive,  and  even 
with  his  tongue  faltering  in  death  he  might  destroy  them  both. 

Why  did  she  not  wait  till  the  morrow  ?  On  the  morrow 
the  king  might  be  already  dead  ;  and  then  they  could  see  each 
other  without  constraint  and  without  danger.  Theu  was  she 
his,  and  naught  could  longer  stand  in  the  way  between  them 
and  happiness.  Now,  when  the  king  was  near  his  death — 
now  he  loved  her  only — ho  loved  but  Catharine.  His  ambi- 
tion hud  decided  his  heart.  Death  had  become  the  judge  over 
Seymour's  double  affection  and  divided  heart,  and  with  King 
Henry's  death  Elizabeth's  star  had  also  paled. 

Catharine  was  the  widow  of  a  king;  and  without  doubt 
tliis  tender  husband  had  appointed  his  young  and  adored 
wife  Regent  during  the  minority  of  the  Prince  of  Wales. 
Cathariue  then  would  have  still  five  years  of  unlimited  sway, 
of  royal  authority  and  sovereign  power.  If  Catharine  were 
his  wife,  then  would  he,  Thomas  Seymour,  share  this  power; 
and  the  purple  robes  of  royalty,  which  rented  on  her  shoulders, 
would  cover  him  also ;  and  ho  would  help  her  bear  that 
crown  which  doubtless  might  sometimes  press  heavily  on  her 


402  HENRY  vrrr.  AND  HIS  COURT. 

tender  brow.  He  would,  in  reality,  be  the  regent,  and 
Catharine  would  be  so  only  in  name.  She,  the  Queen  of 
England,  and  he,  king  of  this  queen.  What  a  proud,  in- 
toxicating thought  was  that !  And  what  plans,  what  hopes 
might  not  be  twined  with  it !  Five  years  of  sway — was  not 
that  a  time  long  enough  to  undermine  the  throne  of  the  royal 
boy  and  to  sap  his  authority  ?  "Who  could  conjecture  whether 
the  people,  once  accustomed  to  the  regency  of  the  queen, 
might  not  prefer  to  remain  under  her  sceptre,  instead  of  com- 
mitting themselves  to  this  feeble  youth  ?  The  people  must  be 
constrained  so  to  think,  and  to  make  Catharine,  Thomas  Sey- 
mour's wife,  their  reigning  queen. 

The  king  was  sick  unto,  death,  and  Catharine  was,  without 
doubt,  the  regent — perchance  some  day  the  sovereign  queen. 

Princess  Elizabeth  was  only  a  poor  princess,  entirely  with- 
out a  prospect  of  the  throne  ;  for  before  her  came  Catharine, 
came  Edward,  and  finally  Mary,  Elizabeth's  eldest  sister. 
Elizabeth  had  not  the  least  prospect  of  the  throne,  and  Cath. 
arine  the  nearest  and  best  founded. 

Thomas  Seymour  pondered  this  as  he  traversed  the  apart- 
ments of  the  queen ;  and  when  he  entered  her  presence,  he 
had  convinced  himself  that  he  loved  the  queen  only,  and  that 
it  was  she  alone  whom  he  had  always  loved. 

Elizabeth  was  forgotten  and  despised.  She  had  no  pros- 
pect of  the  throne — why,  then,  should  he  love  her  ? 

The  queen,  as  we  have  said,  ordered  him  to  shut  the  door 
of  the  boudoir  and  to  drop  the  hanging.  At  the  same  moment 
that  he  did  this,  the  hanging  of  the  opposite  door,  leading  into 
the  sleeping  apartment,  moved — perhaps  only  the  draught  of 
the  closing  door  had  done  it.  Neither  the  queen  nor  Seymour 
noticed  it.  They  were  both  too  much  occupied  with  them- 
selves. They  saw  not  how  the  hanging  again  and  again 
gently  shook  and  trembled.  They  saw  not  how  it  was  gently 
opened  a  little  in  the  middle  ;  nor  did  they  see  the  sparkling 
eyes  which  suddenly  peeped  through  the  opening  in  the  hang- 
ing ;  nor  suspected  they  that  it  was  the  Princess  Elizabeth, 


HENET   Vin.    AOT)   HIS    COURT.  403 

who  had  stepped  behind  the  curtain,  the  better  to  see  and  hear 
what  was  taking  place  in  the  boudoir. 

The  queen  had  arisen  and  advanced  a  few  steps  to  meet 
the  earl.  As  she  now  stood  before  him — as  their  eyes  met» 
she  felt  her  courage  sink  and  her  heart  fail. 

She  was  compelled  to  look  down  at  the  floor  to  prevent  him 
from  seeing  the  tears  which  involuntarily  came  into  her  eyes. 
With  a  silent  salutation  she  offered  him  her  hand.  Thomas 
Seymour  pressed  it  impulsively  to  his  lipe,  and  looked  with 
passionate  tenderness  into  her  face.  She  struggled  to  collect 
all  her  strength,  that  her  heart  might  not  betray  itself.  With 
a  hurried  movement  she  withdrew  her  hand  from  him,  and 
took  from  the  table  a  roll  of  paper  containing  the  new  act  of 
succession  signed  by  the  king. 

"  My  lord,"  said  she,  "  I  have  called  you  hither,  because 
I  would  like  to  intrust  a  commission  to  you.  I  beg  you  to 
carry  this  parchment  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  and  be  pleased 
to  deliver  it  to  her.  But  before  you  do  that,  I  will  make  you 
acquainted  with  its  contents.  This  parchment  contains  a  new 
law  relative  to  the  succession,  which  has  already  received  the 
sanction  of  the  king.  By  virtue  of  this,  the  royal  princesses 
are  no  longer  under  the  necessity  of  uniting  themselves  with 
a  husband  who  is  a  sovereign  prince,  if  they  wish  to  preserve 
their  hereditary  claim  on  the  throne  unimpaired.  The  king 
gives  the  princesses  the  right  to  follow  their  own  hearts  ;  nnd 
their  claim  to  the  succession  is  not  to  suffer  thereby,  if  the 
husband  chosen  is  neither  a  king  nor  a  prince.  That,  my 
lord,  is  the  contents  of  this  parchment  which  you  are  to  carry 
to  the  princess,  and  without  doubt  you  will  thank  mo  for  mak- 
ing you  the  messenger  of  these  glad  tidings." 

"  And  why,"  asked  he,  in  astonishment — u  why  does  your 
majesty  believe  that  this  intelligence  should  611  me  with  special 
thankfulness?" 

She  collected  nil  her  powers  ;  she  prayed  to  her  own  heart 
for  strength  and  self-control.  »  . 

"  Because  the  princess  has  made  mo  the  confidante  of  her 


404  HENRY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

love,  and  because  I  am  consequently  aware  of  that  tender  tie 
which  binds  you  to  her."  said  she,  gently ;  and  she  felt  that  all 
the  blood  had  fled  from  her  cheeks. 

The  earl  looked  into  her  face  in  mute  astonishment.  Then 
his  inquiring  and  searching  glance  swept  all  around  the  room. 

"We  are  overheard,  then?"  asked  he,  in  a  low  voice. 
"  We  are  not  alone?  " 

"We  are  alone !"  said  Catharine,  aloud.  "Nobody  can 
hear  us,  and  God  alone  is  witness  of  our  conversation." 

Elizabeth,  who  stood  behind  the  hanging,  felt  her  cheeks 
glow  with  shame,  and  she  began  to  repent  what  she  had  done. 
But  she  was  nevertheless,  as  it  were,  spellbound  to  that  spot. 
It  was  certainly  mean  and  unworthy  of  a  princess  to  eaves- 
drop, but  she  was  at  that  time  but  a  young  girl  who  loved, 
and  who  wanted  to  observe  her  lover.  So  she  stayed ;  she 
laid  her  hand  on  her  anxiously-throbbing  heart,  and  murmured 
to  herself:  "What  will  he  say?  What  means  this  anxious 
dread  that  comes  over  me  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Thomas  Seyfnour,  in  an  entirely  altered  tone, 
"  if  we  are  alone,  then  this  mask  which  hides  my  face  may 
fall ;  then  the  cuirass  which  binds  my  heart  may  be  loosened. 
Hail,  Catharine,  my  star  and  my  hope !  No  one,  you  say, 
hears  us,  save  God  alone ;  and  God  knows  our  love,  and  He 
knows  with  what  longing,  and  what  ecstasy,  I  have  sighed  for 
this  hour — for  this  hour,  which  at  length  again  unites  me  to 
you.  My  God,  it  is  an  eternity  since  I  have  seen  you,  Cath- 
arine ;  and  my  heart  thirsted  for  you  as  a  famishing  man  for 
a  refreshing  draught.  Catharine,  my  beloved,  blessed  be 
you,  that  you  have  at  last  called  me  to  you  ! " 

He  opened  his  arms  for  her,  but  she  repulsed  him  sharply. 
"  You  are  mistaken  in  the  name,  earl,"  said  she,  bitterly. 
"  You  say  Catharine,  and  mean  Elizabeth  !  It.  is  the  princess 
that  you  love  ;  to  Elizabeth  belongs  your  heart,  and  she  has 
devoted  her  heart  to  you.  Oh,  earl,  I  will  favor  this  love, 
and  be  certain  I  will  not  cease  from  prayer  and  supplication 


• 

HENEY  Vm.    AND   KIS   COURT.  405 

till  I  have  inclined  the  king  to  your  wishes,  till  he  has  given 
his  consent  to  your  marriage  with  the  Princess  Elizabeth." 

Thomas  Seymour  laughed.  "  This  is  a  masquerade,  Cath- 
arine :  and  you  still  wear  a  mask  over  your  beautiful  and 
charming  face.  Oh,  away  with  that  mask,  queen  !  I  want 
to  behold  you  as  you  are.  I  want  to  see  again  your  own  beau- 
tiful self ;  I  want  to  see  the  woman  who  belongs  to  me,  and 
who  has  sworn  to  be  mine,  and  who  has,  with  a  thousand 
sacred  oaths,  vowed  to  love  me,  to  be  true  to  me,  and  to 
follow  me  as  her  husband  and  her  lord.  Or  how,  Catharine  ! 
Can  you  have  forgotten  your  oath  ?  Can  you  have  become 
untrue  to  your  own  heart  ?  Do  you  want  to  cast  me  away, 
and  throw  me,  like  a  ball  of  which  you  are  tired,  to  another?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  she,  quite  unconsciously,  "I — I  can  never  for- 
get and  never  be  untrue." 

"  Well,  then,  my  Catharine,  the  bride  and  wife  of  my 
future,  what  then  are  you  speaking  to  me  of  Elizabeth  ?— of 
this  little  princess,  who  sighs  for  love  as  the  flower-bud  for 
the  sun,  and  takes  the  first  man  whom  she  finds  in  her  way 
for  the  sun  after  which  she  pines  ?  What  care  we  for  Eliza- 
beth, my  Catharine?  And  what  have  we  to  do  with  that 
child  in  this  hour  of  long-wished-for  reunion?" 

"  Oh,  he  calls  me  a  child  !  "  murmured  Elizabeth.  "  I  am 
nothing  but  a  child  to  him  !  "  And  she  pressed  her  hands  on 
her  mouth  in  order  to  repress  her  cry  of  auger  and  anguish, 
and  to  prevent  them  from  hearing  her  tooth,  which  were  chat- 
tering as  though  she  were  in  a  chill. 

With  irresistible  force  Thomas  Seymour  drew  Catharine 
into  his  arms.  "  Avoid  me  no  longer,"  said  he,  in  tender  en- 
treaty. "  The  hour  has  como  which  is  finally  to  determine 
our  destiny  !  The  king  is  at  the  point  of  death,  ami  my  Cath- 
arine will  at  length  be  free — free  to  follow  her  own  heart.  At 
this  hour  I  remind  you  of  your  oath  !  Do  you  remember  still 
that  day  when  you  referred  me  to  this  hour?  Do  you  still 
know,  Catharine-,  how  you  vowed  to  be  my  wife  and  to  receive 
me  as  the  lord  of  your  future?  Ob,  my  beloved,  that  crown 


4:06  UENEY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COUET. 

which  weighed  down  your  head  will  soon  be  taken  away. 
Now  I  yet  stand  before  you  as  your  subject,  but  in  a  few 
hours  it  will  be  your  lord  and  your  husband  that  stands  be 
fore  you  ;  and  he  will  ask :  '  Catharine,  my  wife,  have  you 
kept  with  me  the  faith  you  swore  to  me?  Have  you  been 
guiltless  of  perjury  in  respect  of  your  vows  and  your  love  ? 
Have  you  preserved  my  honor,  which  is  your  honor  also, 
clear  from  every  spot ;  and  can  you,  free  from  guilt,  look  me 
in  the  eye  ? ' " 

He  gazed  at  her  with  proud,  flashing  eyes,  and  before  his 
commanding  look  her  firmness  and  her  pride  melted  away 
like  ice  before  the  sunshine.  Again  he  was  the  master,  whose 
right  it  was  to  rule  her  heart ;  and  she  again  the  lowly  hand- 
maid, whose  sweetest  happiness  it  was  to  submit  and  bow  to  the 
will  of  her  lover. 

"  I  can  look  you  frankly  in  the  eye,"  murmured  she,  "  and 
no  guilt  burdens  my  conscience.  I  have  loved  naught  but  you, 
and  God  only  dwells  near  you  in  my  heart." 

Wholly  overcome,  wholly  intoxicated  with  happiness,  she 
leaned  her  head  upon  his  shoulder,  and  as  he  clasped  her  in 
his  arms,  as  he  covered  with  kisses  her  now  unresisting  lips, 
she  felt  only  that  she  loved  him  unutterably,  and  that  there 
was  no  happiness  for  her  except  with  him. 

It  was  a  sweet  dream,  a  moment  of  most  exquisite  ecstasy. 
But  it  was  only  a  moment.  A  hand  was  laid  violently  on  her 
shoulder,  a  hoarse  angry  voice  called  her  name  ;  and  as  she 
looked  up,  she  encountered  the  wild  glance  of  Elizabeth,  who 
stood  before  her  with  deathly  pale  cheeks,  with  trembling  lips, 
with  expanded  nostrils,  and  eyes  darting  flashes  of  wrath  and 
hatred. 

"  This,  then,  is  the  friendly  service  which  you  swore  to 
me?  "  said  she,  gnashing  her  teeth.  "  Did  you  steal  into  my 
confidence,  and  with  scoffing  mouth  spy  out  the  secrets  of  my 
heart,  in  order  to  go  away  and  betray  them  to  your  paramour  ? 
That  you  might  in  his  arms  ridicule  this  pitiable  maiden,  who 
allowed  herself  for  the  moment  to"  be  betrayed  by  her  heart, 


HENRY   Vin.    AND   HIS   COURT.  407 

and  took  a  felon  for  nn  honorable  man  !  Woe,  woe  to  you, 
Catharine,  for  I  tell  you  I  will  have  no  compassion  on  the 
adulteress,  who  mocks  at  me,  and  betrays  my  father !  " 

She  was  raving ;  completely  beside  herself  with  anger,  she 
dashed  away  the  hand  which  Catharine  laid  on  her  shoulder, 
and  sprang  back  from  the  touch  of  her  enemy  like  an  irritated 
lioness/ 

Her  father's  blood  fumed  and  raged  within  her,  and,  a  true 
daughter  of  Henry  the  Eighth,  she  concealed  in  her  heart  only 
bloodthirsty  and  revengeful  thoughts. 

She  cast  on  Thomas  Seymour  a  look  of  dark  wrath,  and  a 
contemptuous  smile  played  about  her  lips.  u  My  lord,"  said 
she,  "  you  have  called  me  a  child  who  allows  herself  to  be 
easily  deceived,  because  she  longs  so  much  for  the  sun  and  for 
happiness.  You  are  right :  I  was  a  child  ;  and  I  was  foolish 
enough  to  take  a  miserable  liar  for  a  nobleman,  who  was  wor- 
thy of  the  proud  fortune  of  being  loved  by  a  king's  daughter. 
Yes,  you  are  right ;  that  was  a  childish  dream.  Thanks  to 
you,  I  have  DOW  awoke  from  it ;  and  you  have  matured  the 
child  into  a  woman,  who  laughs  at  the  folly  of  her  youth,  and 
despises  to-day  what  she  adored  yesterday.  I  have  nothing 
to  do  with  you ;  and  you  are  even  too  insignificant  and  too 
contemptible  for  my  anger.  But  I  tell  you,  you  have  played 
a  hazardous  game,  and  you  will  lose.  You  courted  a  queen 
and  a  princess,  aud  you  will  gain  neither  of  them :  not  tho 
one,  for  she  despises  you ;  not  tho  other,  for  she  ascends  tho 
scaffold !  " 

"With  a  wild  laugh  she  was  hurrying  to  tho  door,  but 
Catharine  with  a  strong  hand  held  her  back  aud  compelled 
her  to  remain.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  asked  she,  with 
perfect  calmness  and  composure. 

"What  am  I  going  to  do?"  asked  Elizabeth,  her  eyes 
flashing  like  those  of  a  lioness.  "  You  ask  ino  what  I  will 
do  ?  I  will  go  to  my  father,  and  tell  him  what  I  have  here 
witnessed!  He  will  listen  to  me;  and  his  tongue  will  .-t ill 
have  strength  enough  to  pronounce  your  sentence  of  death  I 


408  HKNEY  Vni.    AND    HIS   COURT. 

Oh,  my  mother  died  on  the  scaffold,  and  yet  she  was  inno- 
cent. We  will  see,  forsooth,  whether  you  will  escape  the  scaf- 
fold— you,  who  are  guilty  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  go  to  your  father,"  said  Catharine ;  "  go 
and  accuse  me.  But  first  you  shall  hear  me.  This  man 
whom  I  loved,  I  wanted  to  renounce,  in  order  to  give  him  to 
you.  By  the  confession  of  your  love,  you  had  crushed  my 
happiness  and  my  future.  But  I  was  not  angry  with  you.  I 
understood  your  heart,  for  Thomas  Seymour  is  worthy  of  be- 
ing loved.  But  you  are  right ;  for  the  king's  wife  it  was  a  sin- 
ful love,  however  innocent  and  pure  I  may  have  been.  On 
that  account  I  wanted  to  renounce  it ;  on  that  account  I 
wanted,  on  the  first  confession  from  you,  to  silently  sacrifice 
myself.  You  yourself  have  now  made  it  an  impossibility.  Go, 
then,  and  accuse  us  to  your  father,  and  fear  not  that  I  will 
belie  my  heart.  Now,  that  the  crisis  has  come,  it  shall  find  me 
prepared ;  and  on  the  scaffold  I  will  still  account  myself  blest, 
for  Thomas  Seymour  loves  me  !  " 

"  Ay,  he  loves  you,  Catharine  !  "  cried  he,  completely  over- 
come and  enchanted  by  her  noble,  majestic  bearing.  "  He 
loves  you  so  warmly  and  ardently,  that  death  with  you  seems 
to  him  an  enviable  lot ;  and  he  would  not  exchange  it  for  any 
throne  nor  for  any  crown." 

And  as  he  thus  spoke,  he  put  his  arms  around  Catharine's 
neck,  and  impetuously  drew  her  to  his  heart. 

Elizabeth  uttered  a  fierce  scream,  and  sprang  to  the  door. 
But  what  noise  was  that  which  all  at  once  drew  nigh  ;  which 
suddenly,  like  a  wild  billow,  came  roaring  on,  and  filled  the 
anterooms  and  the  halls?  What  were  these  affrighted,  shriek- 
ing voices  calling  ?  What  were  they  screaming  to  the  queen, 
and  the  physicians,  and  the  priest? 

Elizabeth  stopped  amazed,  and  listened.  Thomas  Sey- 
mour and  Catharine,  arm  linked  in  arm,  stood  near  her.  They 
scarcely  heard*  what  was  taking  place ;  they  looked  at  each 
other  and  smiled,  and  dreamed  of  love  and  death  and  an  eter- 
nity of  happiness. 


HENRY  nrr.  AND  HIS  COURT.  409 

Now  the  door  flew  open ;  there  was  seen  John  Heywood's 
pale  face  ;  there  were  the  maids  of  honor  and  the  court  offi- 
cials. And  all  shrieked  and  all  wailed :  "  The  king  is  dying  I 
He  is  struck  with  apoplexy !  The  king  is  at  the  point  of 
death ! " 

41  The  king  calls  you  !  The  king  desires  to  die  in  the  arras 
of  his  wife  !  "  said  John  Heywood,  and,  as  he  quietly  pushed 
Elizabeth  aside  and  away  from  the  door  as  she  was  pressing 
violently  forward,  he  added :  "  The  king  will  see  nobody  but 
his  wife  and  the  priest ;  and  he  has  authorized  me  to  call  the 
queen !  " 

He  opened  the  door ;  and  through  the  lines  of  weeping  and 
wailing  court  officials  and  servants,  Catharine  moved  on,  to  go 
to  the  death-bed  of  her  royal  husband. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

"  LE    BOI    EST    MOST — VIVE    LA    REIXE  !  " 

KING  HENRY  lay  a  dying.  That  life  full  of  sin,  full  of  blood 
and  crime,  full  of  treachery  and  cunning,  full  of  hypocrisy  and 
sanctimonious  cruelty — that  life  was  at  last  lived  out.  That 
hand,  which  had  signed  so  many  death-warrants,  was  now 
clutched  in  the  throes  of  death.  It  had  stiffened  at  the  very 
moment  when  the  king  was  going  to  sign  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk's  death-warrant.*  And  the  king  was  dying  with  the 
gnawing  consciousness  that  ho  had  no  longer  the  power  to 
throttle  that  enemy  whom  he  hated.  The  mighty  king  was 
now  nothing  more  than  a  feeble,  dying  old  man,  who  was 
no  longer  able  to  hold  the  pen  nnd  sign  this  death-warrant  for 
which  he  had  so  long  hankered  and  hoped.  Now  it  lay  be* 
fore  him,  and  he  no  longer  had  the  power  to  use  it.  God,  in 
His  wisdom  and  His  justice,  had  decreed  against  him  the  most 
grievous  and  horrible  of  punishments  ;  He  had  left  him  his  con- 

•  Historical. 

18 


410  HENRY    VIII.    AND    HIS   COURT. 

sciousness  ;  He  had  not  crippled  him  in  mind,  but  in  body  only. 
And  that  motionless  and  rigid  mass  which,  growing  chill  in 
death,  lay  there  on  the  couch  of  purple  trimmed  with  gold — 
that  was  the  king — a  king  whom  agony  of  conscience  did  not 
permit  to  die,  and  who  now  shuddered  and  was  horrified  in 
view  of  death,  to  which  he  had,  with  relentless  cruelty,  hunted 
so  many  of  his  subjects. 

Catharine  and  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  noble 
Cranmer,  stood  at  his  bedside :  and  whilst  in  convulsive 
agony  he  grasped  Catharine's  hands,  he  listened  to  the  devout 
prayers  which  Cranmer  was  saying  over  him. 

Once  he  asked  with  mumbling  tongue  :  "  My  lord,  what 
kind  of  a  world  then  is  that  where  those  who  condemn  others 
to  die,  are  condemned  to  die  themselves  ?  "  *  And  as  the 
pious  Cranmer,  touched  by  the  agonies  and  tortures  of  con- 
science which  he  read  in  the  king's  looks,  and  full  of  pity  for 
the  dying  tyrant,  sought  to  comfort  him,  and  spoke  to  him  of 
the  mercy  of  God  which  has  compassion  on  every  sinner, 
the  king  groaned  out :  "  No,  no !  No  mercy  for  him  who 
knew  no  mercy  !  " 

At  length  this  awful  struggle  of  death  with  life  was  ended  ; 
and  death  had  vanquished  life.  The  king  had  closed  his  eyes 
to  earth,  to  open  them  again  there  above,  as  a  guilt-laden  sin- 
ner in  the  presence  of  God. 

For  three  days  his  death  was  kept  a  secret.  They  wanted 
first  to  have  every  thing  arranged,  and  to  fill  up  the  void 
which  his  death  must  make.  They  wanted,  when  they  spoke 
to  the  people  of  the  dead  king,  to  show  them  also  at  the  same 
time  the  living  king.  And  since  they  knew  that  the  people 
would  not  weep  for  the  dead,  they  were  to  rejoice  for  the  liv- 
ing ;  since  they  would  sing  no  funeral  psalms,  they  were  to 
let  their  hymns  of  joy  resound. 

On  the  third  day  the  gates  of  Whitehall  were  thrown 
open,  and  a  gloomy  funeral  train  moved  through  the  streets 
of  London.  In  dead  silence  the  populace  saw  borne  past 

*  The  king's  own  words. — Leti,  vol.  I.,  page  16. 


HENKY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUBT.  411 

them  the  coffin  of  the  king,  before  whom  they  had  trembled 
so  much,  and  for  whom  they  now  had  not  a  word  of  mourn- 
ing or  of  pity — no  tears  for  the  dead  who  for  seven-and- 
thirty  years  had  been  their  king. 

They  were  bearing  the  coffin  to  Westminster  Abbey  to 
the  splendid  monument  which  Wolsey  had  built  there  for  his 
royal  master.  But  the  way  was  long,  and  the  panting  horses 
with  black  housings,  which  drew  the  hearse,  had  often  to  stop 
and  rest.  And  all  of  a  sudden,  as  the  carriage  stood  still  on 
one  of  the  large  open  squares,  blood  was  seen  to  issue  from 
the  king's  coffin.  It  streamed  down  in  crimson  currents  and 
flowed  over  the  stones  of  the  streets.  The  people  with  a 
shudder  stood  around  and  saw  the  king's  blood  flowing,  and 
thought  how  much  blood  he  had  spilt  on  that  same  spot,  for 
the  coffin  was  standing  on  the  square  where  the  executions 
were  wont  to  take  place,  and  where  the  scaffolds  were  erected 
and  the  stakes  set, 

As  the  people  stood  gazing  at  the  blood  which  flowed  from 
the  king's  coffin,  two  dogs  sprang  forth  from  the  crowd  and, 
with  greedy  tongue,  licked  the  blood  of  King  Henry  the 
Eighth.  But  the  people,  shuddering  and  horror-stricken,  fled 
in  all  directions,  and  talked  among  themselves  of  the  poor 
priest  who  a  few  weeks  before  was  executed  hero  on  this  very 
spot,  because  he  Would  not  recognize  the  king  as  the  supreme 
lord  of  the  Church  and  God's  vicegerent ;  of  that  unfortunate 
man  who  cursed  the  king,  and  on  the  scaffold  said  :  "  May  the 
dogs  one  day  drink  the  blood  of  this  king  who  has  shed  so  much 
innocent  blood  !  "  And  now  the  curse  of  the  dying  man  had 
found  its  fulfilment,  and  the  dogs  had  drunk  the  king's  blood.* 

When  the  gloomy  funeral  train  had  left  the  palace  of 
Whitehall,  when  the  king's  corpqp  no  longer  infected  the  hulls 
with  its  awful  stench  of  corruption,  and  the  court  was  prepar- 
ing to  do  homage  to  the  boy  Edwnrd  as  the  new  king,  Thomas 
Seymour,  earl  of  Sudlcy,  entered  the  room  of  the  young  i 
widow.  He  came  in  a  magnificent  mourning  suit,  and  hia 

•  !Ibtorlc*l.-8<M  Tytler,  pK*  481. 


412  HENEY   Vm.    AND    HIS   COTJBT. 


elder  brother,  Edward  Seymour,  and  Cranmer,  archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  walked  by  his  side. 

With  a  blush  and  a  sweet  smile,  Catharine  bade  them  wel- 
come. 

u  Queen,"  said  Thomas  Seymour  with  solemn  air,  "  I 
come  to-day  to  claim  of  you  the  fulfilment  of  your  vow  !  Oh, 
do  not  cast  down  your  eyes,  nor  blush  for  shame.  The  noble 
archbishop  knows  your  heart,  and  he  knows  that  it  is  as  pure 
as  the  heart  of  a  maiden,  and  that  an  unchaste  thought  has 
never  sullied  your  pure  soul.  And  my  brother  would  not  be 
here,  had  he  not  faith  in  and  respect  for  a  love  which  has  pre- 
served itself  so  faithful  and  constant  amidst  storms  and  dan- 
gers.^ I  have  selected  these  two  noble  friends  as  my  suitors, 
and  in  their  presence  I  will  ask  you  :  '  Queen  Catharine,  the 
king  is  dead,  and  no  fetters  longer  bind  your  heart  ;  will  you 
now  give  it  me  as  my  own  ?  Will  you  accept  me  as  your 
husband,  and  sacrifice  for  me  your  royal  title  and  your  exalt- 
ed position  ?  '  " 

With  a  bewitching  smile  she  gave  him  her  hand.  "  You 
well  know,"  whispered  she,  "  that  I  sacrifice  nothing  for  you, 
but  receive  from  you  all  of  happiness  and  love  that  I  hope 
for." 

"  Will  you  then,  in  the  presence  of  these  two  friends,  ac- 
cept me  as  your  future  husband,  and  plight  me  your  vow  of 
truth  and  love  ?  " 

Catharine  trembled  and  cast  down  her  eyes  with  the  bash- 
fulness  of  a  young  girl.  *'Alas!"  whispered  she,  "do  you 
not  then  see  my  mourning  dress  ?  Is  it  becoming  to  think  of 
happiness,  while  the  funeral  lamentations  have  scarcely  died 
away  ?  " 

"  Queen  Catharine,"  said  Archbishop  Cranmer,  "  let  the 
dead  bury  their  dead  !  Life  also  has  its  rights  ;  and  man 
should  not  give  up  his  claim  on  happiness,  for  it  is  a  most  holy 
possession.  You  have  endured  much  and  suffered  much,  queen, 
but  your  heart  is  pure  and  without  guilt  ;  therefore  you  may 
now,  with  a  clear  conscience,  bid  welcome  to  happiness  also, 


HENET   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT.  413 

Do  not  delay  about  it.     In  God's  name  I  have  come  to  bless 
your  love,  and  give  to  your  happiness  a  holy  consecration." 

"  And  I,"  said  Edward  Seymour,  "  I  have  begged  of  my 
brother  the  honor  of  being  allowed  to  accompany  him  in  order 
to  say  to  your  majesty  that  I  know  how  to  duly  appreciate 
the  high  honor  which  you  show  our  family,  and  that,  as  your 
.brother-in-law,  I  shall  ever  be  mindful  that  you  were  once  my 
queen  and  I  your  subject." 

"  But  I,"  cried  Thomas  Seymour,  "  I  would  not  delay 
coming  to  you,  in  order  that  I  might  show  you  that  love  only 
brings  me  to  you,  and  that  no  other  consideration  could 
induce  me.  The  king's  will  is  not  yet  opened,  and  I  know  not 
its  contents.  But  however  it  may  determine  with  respect  to 
all  of  us,  it  cannot  diminish  or  increase  my  happiness  in  pos- 
sessing you.  Whatever  you  may  be,  you  will  ever  be  to  me 
only  the  adored  woman,  the  ardently  loved  wife ;  and  only  to 
assure  you  of  this,  I  have  come  this  very  day." 
B  Catharine  extended  her  hand  to  him  with  a  bewitching 
smile.  "  I  have  never  doubted  of  you,  Seymour,"  whispered 
she,  "  and  never  did  I  love  you  more  ardently  than  when  I 
wanted  to  renounce  you." 

She  bowed  her  head  on  her  lover's  shoulder,  and  tears  of 
purest  joy  bedewed  her  cheeks.  The  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury joined  their  hands,  and  blessed  them  as  betrothed  lovers  ; 
and  the  elder  Seymour,  Earl  Hertford,  bowed  and  greeted  them 
as  a  betrothed  couple. 

On  that  very  same  day  the  king's  will  was  opened.  In  the 
large  gilded  hall,  in  which  King  Henry's  merry  laughter  and 
thundering  voice  of  wrath  had  so  often  resounded,  were  now 
read  his  last  commands.  The  whole  court  was  assembled,  an 
it  was  wont  to  be  for  a  joyous  festival ;  and  Catharine  onco 
more  sat  on  the  royal  throne.  But  the  dreaded  tyrant,  tho 
bloodthirsty  King  Henry  tho  Eighth,  was  no  longer  at  her 
Bide ;  but  the  poor  pale  boy,  Edward,  who  had  inherited  from 
his  father  neither  energy  nor  genius,  but  only  his  thirst  for 
blood  and  his  canting  hypocrisy.  At  his  side  stood  hi*  sistcra, 


414r  HENKY   VIH.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

the  Princesses  Mary  and  Elizabeth.  Both  were  pale  and  of 
a  sad  countenance  ;  but  with  both,  it  was  not  for  their  father 
that  they  were  grieving. 

Mary,  the  bigoted  Roman  Catholic,  saw  with  horror  and 
bitter  anguish,  the  days  of  adversity  which  were  about  to  befall 
her  church ;  for  Edward  was  a  fanatical  opponent  of  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  religion,  and  she  knew  that  he  would  shed  the 
blood  of  the  papists  with  relentless  cruelty.  On  this  account  it 
was  that  she  mourned. 

But  Elizabeth,  that  young  girl  of  ardent  heart — she  thought 
neither  of  her  father  nor  of  the  dangers  threatening  the  Church  ; 
she  thought  only  of  her  love,  she  felt  only  that  she  had  been 
deprived  of  a  hope,  of  an  illusion — that  she  had  awoke  from  a 
sweet  and  enchanting  dream  to  the  rude  and  barren  reality. 
She  had  given  up  her  first  love,  but  her  heart  bled  and  the 
wound  still  smarted. 

The  will  was  read.  Elizabeth  looked  toward  Thomas 
Seymour  during  this  solemn  and  portentous  reading.  She.- 
wanted  to  read  in  his  countenance  the  impression  made  on  him 
by  these  grave  words,  so  pregnant  with  the  future  ;  she  want- 
ed to  search  the  depths  of  his  soul,  and  to  penetrate  the  secret 
thoughts  of  his  heart.  She  saw  how  he  turned  pale,  when,  not 
Queen  Catharine,  but  his  brother,  Earl  Hertford,  was  appointed 
regent  during  Edward's  minority  ;  she  saw  the  sinister,  almost 
angry  look  which  he  threw  at  the  queen ;  and  with  a  cruel 
smile  she  murmured:  "I  am  revenged!  He  loves  her  no 
longer ! " 

John  Heywood,  who  was  standing  behind  the  queen's 
throne,  had  also  observed  that  look  of  Thomas  Seymour,  yet 
not  like  Elizabeth,  with  a  rejoicing,  but  with  a  sorrowful  heart, 
and  he  dropped  his  head  upon  his  breast  and  murmured :  "  Poor 
Catharine  !  He  will  hate  her,  and  she  will  be  very  unhappy." 

But  she  was  still  happy.  Her  eye  beamed  with  pure  de- 
light when  she  perceived  that  her  lover  was,  by  the  king's 
will,  appointed  High  Admiral  of  England  and  guardian  of  the 
young  king.  She  thought  not  of  herself,  but  only  of  him,  of 


HENKY   VIU.    AND   HIS   COUBT.  415 

her  lover ;  and  it  filled  her  with  the  proudest  satisfaction  to  see 
him  invested  with  places  of  such  high  honor  and  dignity. 

Poor  Catharine !  Her  eye  did  not  see  the  sullen  cloud 
which  still  rested  on  the  brow  of  her  beloved.  She  was  so 
happy  and  so  innocent,  and  so  little  ambitious  !  For  her  this 
only  was  happiness,  to  be  her  lover's,  to  be  the  wife  of  Thom- 
as Seymour. 

And  this  happiness  was  to  be  hers.  Thirty  days  after  the 
death  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth  she  became  the  wife  of  the 
high  admiral,  Thomas  Seymour,  earl  of  Sudley.  Archbish- 
op Craniner  solemnized  their  union  in  the  chapel  at  Whitehall, 
and  the  lord  protector,  now  Duke  of  Somerset,  formerly  Earl 
of  Hertford,  the  brother  of  Thomas  Seymour,  was  the  witness 
of  this  marriage,  which  was,  however,  still  kept  a  secret,  and 
of  which  there  were  to  be  no  other  witnesses.  When,  however, 
they  resorted  to  the  chapel  for  the  marriage,  Princess  Elizabeth 
came  forward  to  meet  the  queen,  and  offered  her  hand. 

It  was  the  first  time  they  had  met  since  the  dreadful  day  on 
which  they  confronted  each  other  as  enemies — the  first  time 
that  they  had  again  seen  each  other  eye  to  eye. 

Elizabeth  had  wrung  this  sacrifice  from  her  heart.  Her 
proud  soul  revolted  at  the  thought  that  Thomas  Seymour  might 
imagine  that  she  was  still  grieving  for  him,  that  she  still  loved 
him.  She  would  show  him  that  her  heart  was  entirely  recovered 
from  that  first  dream  of  her  youth — that  she  had  not  the  least 
regret  or  pain. 

She  accosted  him  with  a  haughty,  cold  smile,  and  presented 
Catharine  her  hand.  "  Queen/'  said  she,  "  you  have  so  long 
been  a  kind  and  faithful  mother  to  me,  that  I  may  well  once  more 
claim  the  right  of  being  your  daughter.  Let  me,  therefore,  as 
your  daughter,  be  present  at  the  solemn  transaction  in  which 
you  are  about  to  engage  ;  ami  allow  me  to  stand  at  your  side 
and  pray  for  you,  whilst  the  archbishop  performs  the  sacred 
service,  and  transforms  the  queen  into  the  Countcw  of  Sudley. 
May  God  bless  you,  Catharine,  and  give  you  all  the  happiness 
that  you  deserve  ! " 


4:16  HENEY   Vm.    AND   HIS   COUKT. 

And  Princess  Elizabeth  knelt  at  Catharine's  side,  as  the 
archbishop  blest  this  new  marriage  tie.  And  while  she  prayed 
her  eye  again  glided  over  toward  Thomas  Seymour,  who  was 
standing  there  by  his  young  wife.  Catharine's  countenance 
beamed  with  beauty  and  happiness,  but  upon  Thomas  Seymour's 
brow  still  lay  the  cloud  that  had  settled  there  on  that  day  when 
the  king's  will  was  opened — that  will  which  did  not  make  Queen 
Catharine  regent,  and  which  thereby  destroyed  Thomas  Sey- 
mour's proud  and  ambitious  schemes. 

And  that  cloud  remained  on  Thomas  Seymour's  brow.  It 
sank  down  lower  and  still  lower.  It  soon  overshadowed  the 
happiness  of  Catharine's  love,  and  awakened  her  from  her  short 
dream  of  bliss. 

"What  she  suffered,  how  much  of  secret  agony  and  silent  woe 
she  endured,  who  can  wish  to  know  or  conjecture?  Catharine 
had  a  proud  and  a  chaste  soul.  She  concealed  from  the  world 
her  pain  and  her  grief,  as  bashfully  as  she  had  once  done  her 
love.  Nobody  suspected  what  she  suffered  and  how  she  strug- 
gled with  her  crushed  heart. 

She  never  complained ;  she  saw  bloom  after  bloom  fall 
from  her  life  ;  she  saw  the  smile  disappear  from  her  husband's 
countenance  ;  she  heard  his  voice,  at  first  so  tender,  gradually 
harden  to  harsher  tones  ;  she  felt  his  heart  growing  colder  and 
colder,  and  his  love  changing  into  indifference,  perhaps  even 
into  hate. 

She  had  devoted  her  whole  heart  to  love,  but  she  felt  day 
by  day,  and  hour  by  hour,  that  her  husband's  heart  was  cool- 
ing more  and  more.  She  felt,  with  dreadful  heart-rending  cer- 
tainty, she  was  his  with  all  her  love.  But  he  was  no  longer 
hers. 

And  she  tormented  her  heart  to  find  out  why  he  no  longer 
loved  her — what  she  had  been  guilty  of,  that  he  turned  away 
from  her.  Seymour  had  not  the  delicacy  and  magnanimity 
to  conceal  from  her  his  inward  thoughts  ;  and  at  last  she  com- 
prehended why  he  neglected  her. 

He  had  hoped  that  Catharine  would  be  Regent  of  Eng- 


HENEY   Vm.   AND   HIS   COURT.  417 

land,  that  he  then  would  be  consort  of  the  regent.  Because  it 
had  not  happened  so,  his  love  had  died.  , 

Catharine  felt  this,  and  she  died  of  it.  But  not  suddenly, 
not  at  once,  did  death  release  her  from  her  sorrows  and  rack- 
ing tortures.  Six  months  she  had  to  suffer  and  struggle  with 
them.  After  six  months  she  died. 

Strange  rumors  were  spread  at  her  death  ;  and  John  Hey- 
wood  never  passed  by  Earl  Seymour  without  gazing  at  him  with 
an  angry  look,  and  saying :  u  You  have  murdered  the  beautiful 
queen  !  Deny  it,  if  you  can  1 " 

Thomas  Seymour  laughed,  and  did  not  consider  it  worth 
his  while  to  defend  himself  against  the  accusations  of  the  fool- 
He  laughed,  notwithstanding  he  had  not  yet  put  off  the  mourn- 
ing he  wore  for  Catharine. 

In  these  mourning  garments  he  ventured  to  approach  the 
Princess  Elizabeth,  to  swear  to  her  his  ardent  love,  and  sue 
for  her  hand.  But  Elizabeth  repelled  him  with  coldness  and 
haughty  contempt ;  and,  like  the  fool,  the  princess  also  said  : 
"  You  have  murdered  Catharine  !  I  cannot  bo  the  wife  of  a 
murderer  I " 

And  God's  justice  punished  the  murderer  of  the  innocent 
and  noble  Catharine;  and  scarcely  three  months  utter  the 
death  of  his  wife,  the  high  admiral  had  to  ascend  the  scaffold, 
and  was  executed  as  a  traitor. 

By  Catharine's  wish,  her  books  and  papers  were  given  to 
her  true  friend  John  lleywood,  and  he  undertook  with  the 
greatest  care  an  examination  of  the  same.  Ho  found  among 
her  papers  many  leaves  written  by  herself,  many  verses  and 
poems,  which  breathed  forth  the  sorrowfulness  of  her  spirit. 
Catharine  herself  had  collected  them  into  a  book,  and  with  her 
own  band  she  had  given  to  the  book  this  title  :  "  Lamentations 
qf  a  Sinner." 

«  Catharine  had  wept  much  as  she  penned  these  "  Lamenta- 
tions ;  "  for  in  many  places  the  manuscript  was  illegible,  and 
her  tears  had  obliterated  the  characters. 

John  lleywood  kissed  the  spots  where  the  traces  of  her 
18* 


418  HENBT   Vm.    AND   HIS   COURT. 

tears  remained,  and  whispered  :  "  The  sinner  has  by  her  suffer- 
ing been  glorified  into  a  saint ;  and  these  poems  are  the  cross 
and  the  monument  which  she  has  prepared  for  her  own  grave. 
I  will  set  up  this  cross,  that  the  good  may  take  comfort,  and  the 
wicked  flee  from  it."  And  he  did  so.  He  had  the  "  Lamenta- 
tions of  a  Sinner"  printed  ;  and  this  book  was  the  fairest  mon- 
ument of  Catharine. 


THE     END 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO? 8  PUBLICATIONS. 

LOUISA  MTJHLBACETS 

HISTORICAL    NOVELS. 


Joseph  II.  and  His  Court.  An  Historical  Novel.  Trans- 
lated from  the  German  by  Adelaide  De  V.  Chaudron.  1  vol., 
8vo.  Paper  cover,  $1.50 ;  cloth,  $2. 

"In  'Joseph  II.'  she  transcends  her  previous  efforts,  not  only  In  the  story 
wrought  ont  in  a  masterly  manner,  but  the  real  characters  that  figure  In  it  have 
been  carefully  studied  from  the  detailed  chronicles  of  the  time." — Philadelphia 
Inquirer, 

Frederick  the  Great  and  his  Court.  An  Historical 
Novel.  Translated  from  the  German  by  Mrs.  Chapman  Coleman 
and  her  Daughters.  1  vol.,  12mo.  434  pages.  Cloth,  $2. 

"The  most  remarkable  volomo  of  onr  time.  It  Is  entertaining  and 
piquant,  and  will  command  a  very  wide  circle  of  readers." — Troy  Whig. 

The  Merchant  of  Berlin.  An  Historical  Novel  Trans- 
lated from  the  German  by  Araory  Coffin,  M.  D.  1  vol.,  12mo. 
Cloth,  $2. 

"  There  Is  not  a  dull  chapter  in  It  The  interest  of  the  reader  Is  well 
maintained  from  the  beginning  to  the  close,  and  we  know  of  no  book  of 
similar  character  which  would  while  away  an  afternoon  more  pleasantly." 
—UticaHeraUL 

Berlin  and  Sans-Sonci;  or,  Frederick  the  Great  and  his 
Friends.  By  L.  Miihlbach.  1  vol.,  12mo.  $2. 

"  We  have  on  several  occasions,  In  noticing  the  works  of  the  great  German 
authoress,  Miss  MQhlbacb,  eipressed  oar  admiration  of  them,  but  are  now 
after  much  careful  reading  of  each  volume  as  It  has  come  from  the  preee, 
almost  constrained  to  pronounce  them  matchless;  unrivalled  In  the  whole 
domain  of  historical  romance. "—  CMcaffo  Journal  qf  Oommtrt*. 


1).  APPLET  ON  &  CO:S  PUBLICATIONS. 


JOSEPH  II.  AND  HIS  COURT. 


BY  LOUISA  MUHLBACH, 

Author  of  "  Frederick  the  Great  and  His  Court  "  "  Berlin  and 

Sans-Souci,"  "  Merchant  of  Berlin,"  &c.,  &c. 

TRANSLATED  FBOU  THE  GERMAN, 

BY  ADELAIDE  DE  V.  CHAUDRCXNT. 

1   vol.,    8vo.     With    Ulustrations.     Paper    Cover,    $1.50; 
Cloth,  $2.0O. 


"In  'Joseph  n.'  she  transcends  her  previous  efforts,  not  only  in  the 
Btory  wrought  out  in  a  masterly  manner,  but  the  real  characters  that  figure 
in  it  have  been  carefully  studied  from  the  detailed  chronicles  of  the  time." 
— Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

"  The  series  of  Historical  Noveis  by  Miss  MfihTbach  are  winning  for 
their  author  a  high  distinction  among  a  class  of  writers,  of  which  Sir  Walter 
Scott  has  stood  at  the,head.  The  events  of  history  which  are  interwoven  in 
the  romances  she  has  written,  are  not  distorted  and  falsified  for  the  purpose 
of  making  a  sensation,  but  are  presented  with  a  truthfulness  which  gives 
a  solid  value  to  the  series.  The  volume  before  us  is  literally  one  of  thrilling 
interest." — Fulton  County  Republican. 

"  We  regard  these  books  as  among  the  best  and  most  entertaining  novels 
of  the  day."— Springfield  Republican. 

"The  novel  is  divided  into  six  books,  and  includes  the  very  large 
number  of  one  hundred  and  seventy-six  chapters ;  yet  the  interest  is  so  well 
kept  up  that  the  reader  never  tires  or  notices  with  regret  its  unusual  length. 
— Georgetown  Courier. 

"  This  is  an  historical  novel  of  intense  and  thrilling  power.  The  reader  is 
at  once  fascinated  and  held  spell-bound  until  the  volume  is  completed. 
Miss  Mflhlbach's  novels  have  risen  into  favor  very  rapidly,  and  this  fact  alone 
gives  a  good  indication  of  their  real  merit.  The  book  is  not  of  the  false 
sensational  kind,  but  the  interest  of  the  reader  is  chained  from  the  first 
chapter." — Galesbura  Free  Prei», 


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