HENRY VIII AND HIS COURT

A HISTORICAL NOVEL

By Louise Muhlbach

Translated From German, by H. N. Pierce

CHAPTER I. CHOOSING A CONFESSOR. 

It was in the year 1543. King Henry the Eighth of England that dayonce more pronounced himself the happiest and most enviable man in hiskingdom, for to-day he was once more a bridegroom, and Catharine Parr, the youthful widow of Baron Latimer, had the perilous happiness of beingselected as the king's sixth consort. 

Merrily chimed the bells of all the steeples of London, announcing tothe people the commencement of that holy ceremony which sacredly boundCatharine Parr to the king as his sixth wife. The people, ever fond ofnovelty and show, crowded through the streets toward the royal palace tocatch a sight of Catharine, when she appeared at her husband's side uponthe balcony, to show herself to the English people as their queen, andto receive their homage in return. 

Surely it was a proud and lofty success for the widow of a petty baronto become the lawful wife of the King of England, and to wear upon herbrow a royal crown! But yet Catharine Parr's heart was moved with astrange fear, her cheeks were pale and cold, and before the altar herclosely compressed lips scarcely had the power to part, and pronouncethe binding "I will. "

At last the sacred ceremony was completed. The two spiritualdignitaries, Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and Cranmer, archbishopof Canterbury, then, in accordance with court etiquette, led the youngbride into her apartments, in order to bless them, and once more to praywith her, before the worldly festivities should begin. 

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

Followed by her new court, she had traversed with her companions thestate apartments, and now reached the inner rooms. Here, according tothe etiquette of the time, she must dismiss her court, and only the twobishops and her ladies of honor were permitted to accompany the queeninto the drawing-room. But farther than this chamber even the bishopsthemselves might not follow her. The king himself had written downthe order for the day, and he who swerved from this order in the mostinsignificant 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 highecclesiastics, and requested them to await here her summons. Thenbeckoning to her ladies of honor, she withdrew into her boudoir. 

The two bishops remained by themselves in the drawing-room. Thecircumstance of their being alone seemed to impress them both alike andunpleasantly; for a dark scowl gathered on the brows of both, and theywithdrew, as if at a concerted signal, to the opposite sides of thespacious apartment. 

A long pause ensued. Nothing was heard save the regular ticking of alarge clock of rare workmanship which stood over the fireplace, and fromthe street afar off, the rejoicing of the people, who surged toward thepalace like a roaring sea. 

Gardiner had stepped to the window, and was looking up with his peculiardark smile at the clouds which, driven by the tempest, were sweepingacross the heavens. 

Cranmer stood by the wall on the opposite side, and sunk in sadthoughts, 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 hecontemplated those eyes which shone with such gloomy severity, thoselips on which was a smile at once voluptuous and fierce, there came overhim a feeling of deep sympathy with the young woman whom he had thatday devoted to such splendid misery. He reflected that he had, in likemanner, 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 tothe same dark fate! How easily might Catharine Parr, like Anne Boleynand Catharine Howard, purchase her short-lived glory with an ignominiousdeath! At any time an inconsiderate word, a look, a smile, might be herruin. For the king's choler and jealousy were incalculable, and, to hiscruelty, no punishment seemed too severe for those by whom he fanciedhimself 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 shortlybefore, and upbraided himself for having been so little mindful of hisholy calling, and for having exhibited so little readiness to meet hisenemy in a conciliating spirit. 

For Gardiner was his enemy; that Cranmer very well knew. Gardiner hadoften enough showed him this by his deeds, as he had also taken pains byhis words to assure him of his friendship. 

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

The noble Cranmer was, therefore, ashamed of his momentary ill-humor. A gentle smile lighted up his peaceful countenance. With an air at oncedignified and friendly, he crossed the room and approached the Bishop ofWinchester. 

Lord Gardiner turned toward him with morose looks, and, withoutadvancing 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 feeling as if he must raise his fist anddash it into the face of this man, who had the boldness to wish to behis equal, and to contend with him for fame and honor. 

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

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

Cranmer now stood close before him, and his bright, beaming eye wasfixed 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 youfor her confessor and spiritual director, and to assure you that, shouldthis be the case, there will not be in my soul, on that account, theleast rancor, or the slightest dissatisfaction. I shall fully comprehendit, if her majesty chooses the distinguished and eminent Bishop ofWinchester as her confessor, and the esteem and admiration which Ientertain for you can only be enhanced thereby. In confirmation of this, permit me to offer you my hand. " 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 subtlediplomatist, for you only wish in an adroit and ingenious way to giveme to understand how I am to act should the queen choose you for herspiritual director. But that she will do so, you know as well as I. Itis, therefore, for me only a humiliation which etiquette imposes whenshe compels me to stand here and wait to see whether I shall be chosen, or contemptuously 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 arenot chosen to an office to which, indeed, neither merit nor worthinesscan call us, but only the personal confidence of a young woman?"

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

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

"Certainly that is known, but it is known also that Catharine Parr wasa warm admirer of the Bishop of Canterbury; and now that she hasgained her end and become queen, she will make it her duty to show hergratitude to him. "

"You would by that insinuate that I have made her queen. But I assureyour highness, that here also, as in so many other matters which relateto myself, you are falsely informed. "

"Possibly!" said Gardiner, coldly. "At any rate, it is certain that theyoung queen is an ardent advocate of the abominable new doctrine which, like the plague, has spread itself from Germany over all Europe andscattered mischief and ruin through all Christendom. Yes, CatharineParr, the present queen, leans to that heretic against whom the HolyFather at Rome has hurled his crushing anathema. She is an adherent ofthe Reformation. "

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

Gardiner turned away his face in order to conceal the vexation and ragewhich distorted his features. He felt that he had gone too far, that hehad betrayed too much of the secret thoughts of his soul. But he couldnot always control his violent and passionate nature; and however mucha man of the world and diplomatist he might be, still there were momentswhen the fanatical priest got the better of the man of the world, andthe diplomat was forced to give way to the minister of the church. 

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

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

"It is true, " murmured Cranmer, with a slight shudder, "it is adangerous lot to be the king's consort. But just on that account let usnot make the perils of her position still greater, by adding to them ourown enmity and hate. Just on that account I beg you (and on my part Ipledge you my word for it) that, let the choice of the queen be as itmay, there may be no feeling of anger, and no desire for revengein consequence. My God, the poor women are such odd beings, sounaccountable in their wishes and in their inclinations!"

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

Cranmer, somewhat embarrassed, turned away, and seemed to evadeGardiner's piercing look. "We are not speaking of myself, " said he atlength, "but of the young queen, and I entreat for her your good wishes. I have seen her to-day almost for the first time, and have never spokenwith her, but her countenance has touchingly impressed me, and itappeared to me, her looks besought us to remain at her side, ready tohelp her on this difficult pathway, which five wives have already trodbefore her, and in which they found only misery and tears, disgrace, andblood. "

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

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

"That which we tread!" cried Gardiner, with all the overweening prideof a minister of the church. "Woe to the queen should she take any otherroad! Woe to her if she lends her ear to the false doctrines whichcome ringing over here from Germany and Switzerland, and in the worldlyprudence of her heart imagines that she can rest secure! I will be hermost faithful and zealous servant, if she is with me; I will be her mostimplacable enemy if she is against me. "

"And will you call it being against you, if the queen does not chooseyou 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 thyfirst misfortune! Why gave he thee the liberty of choosing thine ownspiritual 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, madeher appearance on the threshold. Both bishops regarded her in breathlesssilence. It was a serious, a solemn moment, the deep importance of whichwas very well comprehended by all three. 

"Her majesty the queen, " said Lady Jane, in an agitated voice, "hermajesty 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 toCatharine--"poor queen! she has just made an implacable enemy. "

Lady Jane waited till Cranmer had disappeared through the door, thenhastened with eager steps to the bishop of Winchester, and dropping onher knee, humbly said, "Grace, your highness, grace! My words were invain, and were not able to shake her resolution. "

Gardiner raised up the kneeling maiden, and forced a smile. "It iswell, " said he, "I doubt not of your zeal. You are a true handmaid ofthe church, and she will love and reward you for it as a mother! It isthen 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?"

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

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

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

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

"Yes, she is lost, " responded Earl Douglas, who had just entered, andcaught the last words of the bishop. "Yes, she is lost, for we areher inexorable and ever-vigilant enemies. But I deem it not altogetherprudent to utter words like these in the queen's drawing-room. Let ustherefore choose a more favorable hour. Besides, your highness, you mustbetake yourself to the grand reception-hall, where the whole courtis already assembled, and now only awaits the king to go in formalprocession for the young queen, and conduct her to the balcony. Let usgo, then. "

Gardiner nodded in silence, and betook himself to the reception-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 shallbe the king's seventh wife. "

Whilst this was passing in the drawing-room, the young queen was on herknees before Cranmer, and with him sending up to God fervent prayers forprosperity and peace. Tears filled her eyes, and her heart trembled asif before some approaching calamity. 

CHAPTER II. THE QUEEN AND HER FRIEND

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

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

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

But nevertheless she smiled! She smiled, though she felt that the cholerof the king, so easily kindled and so cruelly vindictive, ever swungover her head like the sword of Damocles. 

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

At length all these presentations, this homage and rejoicing were wellover, and they came to the more agreeable and satisfactory part of thefeast. 

They went to dinner. That was Catharine's first moment of respite, of rest. For when Henry the Eighth seated himself at table, he wasno longer the haughty monarch and the jealous husband, but merely theproficient artiste and the impassioned gourmand; and whether the pastrywas well seasoned, and the pheasant of good flavor, was for him then afar 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 amore real one, which indeed for a while banished all gloomy forebodingsand melancholy fears from Catharine's heart, and suffused hercountenance with the rosy radiance of cheerfulness and happy smiles. For King Henry had prepared for his young wife a peculiar and altogethernovel surprise. He had caused to be erected in the palace of Whitehalla stage, whereon was represented, by the nobles of the court, a comedyfrom Plautus. Heretofore there had been no other theatrical exhibitionsthan those which the people performed on the high festivals of thechurch, the morality and the mystery plays. King Henry the Eighth wasthe first who had a stage erected for worldly amusement likewise, andcaused to be represented on it subjects other than mere dramatizedchurch history. As he freed the church from its spiritual head, thepope, so he wished to free the stage from the church, and to beholdupon it other more lively spectacles than the roasting of saints and themassacre of inspired nuns. 

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

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

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

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

At last she was alone, at last unwatched. The smile disappeared from herface, and an expression of deep sadness was stamped upon her features. 

"Jane, " said she, "pray thee shut the doors and draw the windowcurtains, so that nobody can see me, nobody hear me, no one exceptyourself, my friend, the companion of my happy childhood. Oh, my God, myGod, why was I so foolish as to leave my father's quiet, lonely castleand 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, shesank 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 awoman possibly feel unhappy, and she a queen?"

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

"Your majesty weeping!" said she, in her most insinuating tone. "My God, you are then unhappy; and I received with a loud cry of joy the news ofmy friend's unexpected good fortune. I thought to meet a queen, proud, happy, and radiant with joy; and I was anxious and fearful lest thequeen 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 mehither. Oh, my God! I wished to see you in your happiness and in yourgreatness. "

Catharine removed her hands from her face, and looked down at her friendwith a sorrowful smile. "Well, " said she, "are you not satisfied withwhat you have seen? Have I not the whole day displayed to you thesmiling queen, worn a dress embroidered with gold? did not my neckglitter with diamonds? did not the royal diadem shine in my hair? andsat not the king by my side? Let that, then, be sufficient for thepresent. You have seen the queen all day long. Allow me now for onebrief, happy moment to be again the feeling, sensitive woman, whocan pour into the bosom of her friend all her complaint and herwretchedness. 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 thisone thing--'Give me back my Jane, so that she can weep with me, so thatI may have one being at my side who understands me, and does not allowherself to be imposed upon by the wretched splendor of this outwarddisplay!'"

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

Catharine started and laid her hand, sparkling with brilliants, onJane's lips. "Call me not thus!" said she. "Queen! My God, is not allthe fearful past heard again in that word? Queen! Is it not as much asto say, condemned to the scaffold and a public criminal trial? Ah, Jane!a deadly tremor runs through my members. I am Henry the Eighth'ssixth queen; I shall also be executed, or, loaded with disgrace, berepudiated. "

Again she hid her face in her hands, and her whole frame shook; so shesaw not the smile of malicious satisfaction with which Lady Jane againobserved her. She suspected not with what secret delight her friendheard her lamentations and sighs. 

"Oh! I am at least revenged!" thought Jane, while she lovingly strokedthe queen's hair. "Yes, I am revenged! She has robbed me of a crown, butshe is wretched; and in the golden goblet which she presses to her lipsshe will find nothing but wormwood! Now, if this sixth queen dies not onthe 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 atHenry's feet. "

Then said she aloud: "But why these fears, Catharine? The king lovesyou; the whole court has seen with what tender and ardent looks he hasregarded you to-day, and with what delight he has listened to your everyword. Certainly the king loves you. "

Catharine seized her hand impulsively. "The king loves me, " whisperedshe, "and I, I tremble before him. Yes, more than that, his love fillsme with horror! His hands are dipped in blood, and as I saw him to-dayin 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 hastaken you by surprise, and your overstrained nerves now depict beforeyou all sorts of frightful forms. That is all. "

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

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

"Why did I not do it, ask you? Ah, Jane, are you such a stranger atthis court as not to know, then, that one must either fulfil the king'sbehests or die? My God, they envy me! They call me the greatest andmost potent woman of England. They know not that I am poorer and morepowerless than the beggar of the street, who at least has the power torefuse whom she will. I could not refuse. I must either die or acceptthe royal hand which was extended to me; and I would not die yet, I havestill so many claims on life, and it has hitherto made good so few ofthem! Ah, my poor, hapless existence! what has it been, but an endlesschain of renunciations and deprivations, of leafless flowers anddissolving views? It is true, I have never learned to know what isusually called misfortune. But is there a greater misfortune than not tobe happy; than to sigh through a life without wish or hope; to wear awaythe endless, weary days of an existence without delight, yet surroundedwith luxury and splendor?"

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

"I lost my mother so early that I scarcely knew her. And when my fatherdied I could hardly consider it other than a blessing, for he had nevershown himself a father, but always only as a harsh, tyrannical master tome. "

"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 fewcomfortless, awfully wearisome years, till Lord Neville made me a richwidow. But what did my independence avail me, when I had bound myself innew 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 becomesteward 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 becameacquainted with you, my Jane, and my heart, which had never yet learnedto know a tenderer feeling, flew to you with all the impetuosity of afirst passion. Believe me, my Jane, when this long-missing nephew of myhusband came and snatched away from me his hereditary estate, and, asthe lord, took possession of it, then the thought that I must leaveyou and your father, the neighboring proprietor, was my only grief. Mencommiserated me on account of my lost property. I thanked God that Hehad relieved me of this load, and I started for London, that I might atlast live and feel, that I might learn to know real happiness or realmisery. "

"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 eternalanxiety, to eternal dissimulation. It condemns me to feign a love whichI do not feel, to endure caresses which make me shudder, because theyare an inheritance from five unfortunate women. Jane, Jane, do youcomprehend what it is to be obliged to embrace a man who has murderedthree wives and put away two? to be obliged to kiss this king whose lipsopen just as readily to utter vows of love as sentences of death? Ah, Jane, I speak, I live, and still I suffer all the agonies of death! Theycall me a queen, and yet I tremble for my life every hour, and concealmy anxiety and fear beneath the appearance of happiness! My God, I amfive-and-twenty, and my heart is still the heart of a child; it does notyet know itself, and now it is doomed never to learn to know itself; forI am Henry's wife, and to love another is, in other words, to wish tomount the scaffold. The scaffold! Look, Jane. When the king approachedme and confessed his love and offered me his hand, suddenly there rosebefore me a fearful picture. It was no more the king whom I saw beforeme, but the hangman; and it seemed to me that I saw three corpses lyingat his feet, and with a loud scream I sank senseless before him. WhenI revived, the king was holding me in his arms. The shock of thisunexpected good fortune, he thought, had made me faint. He kissed meand called me his bride; he thought not for a moment that I could refusehim. And I--despise me, Jane--I was such a dastard, that I could notsummon up courage for a downright refusal. Yes, I was so craven also, asto be unwilling to die. Ah, my God, it appeared to me that life at thatmoment beckoned to me with thousands of joys, thousands of charms, whichI had never known, and for which my soul thirsted as for the manna inthe wilderness. I would live, live at any cost. I would gain myself arespite, so that I might once more share happiness, love, and enjoyment. Look, Jane, men call me ambitious. They say I have given my hand toHenry because he is king. Ah, they know not how I shuddered at thisroyal crown. They know not that in anguish of heart I besought the kingnot to bestow his hand upon me, and thereby rouse all the ladies of hiskingdom as foes against me. They know not that I confessed that I lovedhim, merely that I might be able to add that I was ready, out of love tohim, to sacrifice my own happiness to his, and so conjured him to choosea consort worthy of himself, from the hereditary princesses of Europe. [Footnote: "La vie d'Elizabeth, Reine d'Angleterre, traduite del'Italien de Monsieur Gregoire Leti, " vol. Ii. Amsterdam, 1694] ButHenry rejected my sacrifice. He wished to make a queen, in order topossess a wife, who may be his own property--whose blood, as her lordand master, he can shed. So I am queen. I have accepted my lot, andhenceforth my existence will be a ceaseless struggle and wrestling withdeath. I will at least sell my life as dearly as possible; and the maximwhich Cranmer has given me shall hereafter be my guide on the thornypath of life. "

"And how runs this maxim?" asked Jane. 

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

Lady Jane stood opposite to her, and gazed with cruel composure upon thepainfully convulsed countenance and at times violently trembling form ofthe young queen for whom all England that day kept festival, and who yetwas sitting before her so wretched and full of sorrow. 

Suddenly Catharine raised her head. Her countenance had now assumed anentirely different expression. It was now firm, resolute, and dauntless. With a slight inclination of the head she extended her hand to LadyJane, and drew her friend more closely to her. 

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

Lady Jane responded faintly in a few words, which Catharine did notunderstand, and as she looked up to her, she noticed, with astonishment, the corpse-like pallor which had suddenly overspread the countenance ofher maid of honor. 

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

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 shewas wont at other times to hide her thoughts and feelings, it had, atthat moment, carried her away and betrayed her to the keen eye of herfriend. 

"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 werethose three years with your father in Dublin, at that rigidly popishcourt. I did not consider that! But however much your opinions may havechanged, your heart, I know, still remains the same, and you will everbe the proud, high-minded Jane of former days, who could never stoop totell a lie--no, not even if this lie would procure her profit and glory. I ask you then, Jane, what is your religion? Do you believe in the Popeof Rome, and the Church of Rome as the only channel of salvation? or doyou follow the new teaching which Luther and Calvin have promulgated?"

Lady Jane smiled. "Would I have risked appearing before you, if I stillreckoned myself of the Roman Catholic Church? Catharine Parr is hailedby the Protestants of England as the new patroness of the persecuteddoctrine, and already the Romish priests hurl their anathemas againstyou, 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 underan interdict--the king, who is not only my lord and master, but also thehusband of my precious and noble Catharine? Oh, queen, you love me notwhen you can address such a question to me. "

And as if overcome by painful emotion, Lady Jane sank down atCatharine'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. Suddenlyshe 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 thresholdappeared the lord marshal, with his golden mace. 

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

But she forced a smile and advanced to the door to receive the king. Nowwas heard a thunder-like rumble, and over the smoothly carpeted floorof the anteroom came rolling on the king's house equipage. This houseequipage consisted of a large chair, resting on castors, which wasmoved by men in the place of horses, and to which they had, with artfulflattery, given the form of a triumphal car of the old victorious RomanCaesars, in order to afford the king, as he rolled through the halls, the pleasant illusion that he was holding a triumphal procession, andthat it was not the burden of his heavy limbs which fastened him tohis imperial car. King Henry gave ready credence to the flattery of histruckle-chair and his courtiers, and as he rolled along in it throughthe saloons glittering with gold, and through halls adorned withVenetian mirrors, which reflected his form a thousandfold, he likedto lull himself into the dream of being a triumphing hero, and whollyforgot that it was not his deeds, but his fat, that had helped him tohis triumphal car. 

For that monstrous mass which filled up the colossal chair, thatmountain of purple-clad flesh, that clumsy, almost shapeless mass, thatwas Henry the Eighth, king of merry England. But thae mass had a head--ahead full of dark and wrathful thoughts, a heart full of bloodthirstyand cruel lusts. The colossal body was indeed, by its physical weight, fastened to the chair. Yet his mind never rested, but he hovered, withthe talons and flashing eye of the bird of prey, over his people, everready to pounce upon some innocent dove, to drink her blood, and tearout her heart, that he might lay it, all palpitating, as an offering onthe altar of his sanguinary god. 

The king's sedan now stopped, and Catharine hastened forward withsmiling face, to assist her royal husband in alighting. 

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

"Away, " said he, "away! My Catharine alone shall extend me her hand, andgive me a welcome to the bridal chamber. Go, we feel to-day as young andstrong as in our best and happiest days, and the young queen shall seethat it is no decrepit graybeard, tottering with age, who woos her, buta strong man rejuvenated by love. Think not, Kate, that I use my carbecause of weakness. No, it was only my longing for you which made mewish to be with you the sooner. "

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

"Away with the equipage, and with all of you!" said he. "We wish to bealone with this beautiful young wife, whom the lord bishops have to-daymade our own. "

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

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

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

"He has only the smile of a tyrant, " said she to herself. "With thissame smile, by which he would now give expression to his love, heyesterday, perhaps, signed a death-warrant, or will, to-morrow, witnessan execution. "

"Do you love me, Kate?" suddenly said the king, who had till nowobserved her in silence and thoughtfulness. "Say, Kate, do you love me?"

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

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

She was now no longer the shy, timid girl, but the resolute, proudwoman, who was ready to wrestle with fate for greatness and glory. 

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

"I know not, " said Catharine, with a smile, which enchanted the king, for there was quite as much graceful coquetry as bashfulness on hercharming face. 

"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 enoughto return me such an answer! You are a bold woman, Kate, to hazard it, and I praise you for it. I love bravery, because it is something I sorarely see. They all tremble before me, Kate--all! They know that I amnot intimidated by blood, and in the might of my royalty I subscribe adeath-warrant with the same calmness of soul as a love-letter. "

"Oh, you are a great king, " murmured Catharine. Henry did not noticeher. He was wholly buried in one of those self-contemplations to whichhe so willingly surrendered himself, and which generally had for theirsubject his own greatness and superbility. 

"Yes, " continued he, and his eyes, which, in spite of his corpulencyand his extremely fleshy face, were yet large and wide open, shone morebrightly. "Yes, they all tremble before me, for they know that I ama righteous and powerful king, who spares not his own blood, if it isnecessary to punish and expiate crime, and with inexorable hand punishesthe sinner, though he were the nearest to the throne. Take heed toyourself, therefore, Kate, take heed to yourself. You behold in me theavenger of God, and the judge of men. The king wears the crimson, notbecause 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 ofhis delinquent subjects, and thereby expiate human crime. Thus only doI conceive of royalty, and thus only will I carry it out till the endof my days. Not the right to pardon, but the right to punish, is thatwhereby the ruler manifests himself before the lower classes of mankind. God's thunder should be on his lips, and the king's wrath should descendlike lightning on the head of the guilty. "

"But God is not only wrathful, but also merciful and forgiving, " saidCatharine, as she lightly and shyly leaned her head on the king'sshoulder. 

"Just that is the prerogative of God above kings; that He can, as itpleases Him, show mercy and grace, where we can only condemn and punish. There must be something in which God is superior to kings, and greaterthan they. But how, Kate, you tremble, and the lovely smile has vanishedfrom your countenance! Be not afraid of me, Kate! Be always frank withme, and without deceit; then I shall always love you, and iniquity willthen 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 havenever before felt?"

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

"Never. My father maltreated me, so that I could feel for him nothingbut dread and terror. "

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

"My husband?" asked she abstractedly. "It is true, my father sold me toLord Neville, and as the priest had joined our hands, men called himmy husband. But he very well knew that I did not love him, nor did herequire my love. He needed a nurse, not a wife. He had given me his nameas a father gives his to a daughter; and I was his daughter, a true, faithful, and obedient daughter, who joyfully fulfilled her duty andtended him till his death. "

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

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

"Sire, " said she, with a charming smile, "till a few weeks past, Ihave often mourned over myself; and it seemed to me that I must, in thedesperation of my singular and cold nature, lay open my breast, in orderto search there for the heart, which, senseless and cold, had neverbetrayed its existence by its stronger beating. Oh, sire, I was full oftrouble about myself; and in my foolish rashness, I accused Heaven ofhaving robbed me of the noblest feeling and the fairest privilege of anywoman--the capacity of loving. "

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

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

The king uttered a low cry, and drew Catharine, with impetuousvehemence, into his arms. 

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

"Yes, sire, it throbs, oh, it often throbs to bursting! When I hear yourvoice, when I behold your countenance, it is as if a cold tremor rilledthrough my whole being, and drove all my blood to the heart. It is asthough my heart anticipated your approach before my eyes discern you. For even before you draw near me, I feel a peculiar trembling of theheart, and the breath is stifled in my bosom; then I always know thatyou are coming, and that your presence will relieve this peculiartension of my being. When you are not by me I think of you, and when Isleep 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 joyoussurprise had imparted youthful vivacity and warmth. "Yes, Kate, youlove 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 havemade, not a widow, but a young maiden, my queen?"

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

"Ah, a woman's bashful blushes, what an exquisite sight!" cried theking, 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 wekings? In order that I might not be, perhaps, forced to send mysixth wife also to the scaffold, I chose, in trembling dread of thedeceitfulness of your sex, a widow for my queen, and this widow witha blessed confession, mocks at the new law of the wise Parliament, andmakes good to me what she never promised. " [Footnote: After CatharineHoward's infidelity and incontinency had been proved, and she had atonedfor them by her death, Parliament enacted a law "that if the king or hissuccessors should intend to marry any woman whom they took to be a cleanand pure maid--if she, not being so, did not declare the same to theking, it should be high treason: and all who knew it; and did not revealit, were guilty of misprision of treason. "--"Burnet's History of theReformation of the Church of England. " London, 1681 (vol. I, p. 313)]

"Come, Kate, give me a kiss. You have opened before 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 willnever forget it. "

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

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

The king started a moment and released Catharine from his arms. Helistened; the roll of drums continued, and now and then was heard in thedistance, that peculiar thundering and yet sullen sound, which so muchresembles the roar and rush of the sea, and which can be produced onlyby a large and excited mob. 

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

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

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

Suddenly the horizon began to grow bright, and on the sky appeareda streak of fiery red, which, blazing up higher and higher, soonilluminated the entire horizon with a crimson glow, and even shed itsglaring fiery beams over the balcony on which stood the royal pair. Still the bells clanged and clamored; and blended with their peals washeard now and then, in the distance, a piercing shriek and a clamor asof thousands and thousands of confusedly mingled voices. 

Suddenly the king turned to Catharine, and his countenance, which wasjust then overspread by the fire-light as with a blood-red veil, had nowassumed an expression of savage, demoniacal delight. 

"Ah, " said he, "I know what it is. You had wholly bewildered me, andstolen away my attention, you little enchantress. I had for a momentceased to be a king, because I wished to be entirely your lover. Butnow I bethink me again of my avenging sovereignty! It is the fagot-pilesabout the stake which flame so merrily yonder. And that yelling andclamor indicate that my merry people are enjoying with all their soulthe comedy which I have had played before them to-day, for the honor ofGod, and my unimpeachable royal dignity. "

"The stake!" cried Catharine, trembling. "Your majesty does not meanthereby to say that right yonder, men are to die a cruel, painfuldeath--that the same hour in which their king pronounces himself happyand content, some of his subjects are to be condemned to dreadfultorture, to a horrible destruction! Oh, no! my king will not overcloudhis queen's wedding-day with so dark a veil of death. He will not wishto dim my happiness so cruelly. "

The king laughed. "No, I will not darken it, but light it up with brightnames, " said he; and as, with outstretched arm, he pointed over to theglaring heavens, he continued: "There are our wedding-torches, my Kate, and the most sacred and beautiful which I could find, for they burn tothe honor of God and of the king. [Footnote: "Life of King Henry theEighth, founded on Authentic and Original Documents. " By Patrick FraserTytler. (Edinburgh, 1887, p. 440. )] And the heavenward flaring flameswhich carries up the souls of the heretics will give to my God joyousintelligence of His most faithful and obedient son, who, even on theday of his happiness, forgets not his kingly duty, but ever remains theavenging and destroying minister of his God. "

He looked frightful as he thus spoke. His countenance, lit up by thefire, 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 paroxysmof anguish she stared at the king, who, in fanatical enthusiasm, waslooking over toward the fire, into which, at his command, they wereperhaps hurling to a cruel, torturing death, some poor wretch, to thehonor 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 backof her slender neck, he spanned it with his fingers, and whispered inher ear 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 on it for the place where he will make the stroke. Thus hadAnne Boleyn once put her tender white hands about her slender neck, and said to the headsman, brought over from Calais specially for herexecution: "I pray you strike me well and surely! I have, indeed, but aslim little neck. " [Footnote: Tytler, p. 382] Thus had the king clutchedhis hand about the neck of Catharine Howard, his fifth wife whencertain of her infidelity, he had thrust her from himself with fierceexecrations, when she would have clung to him. The dark marks of thatgrip were still visible upon her neck when she laid it on the block. [Footnote: Leti, vol. I, p. 193]

And this dreadful twining of his fingers Catharine must now endure asa caress; at which she must smile, which she must receive with all theappearance 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 savethe blood-red handwriting of fire upon the sky. She heard nothing savethe shrieks of the wretched victims. 

"Mercy, mercy!" faltered she. "Oh, let this day be a day of festivityfor all your subjects! Be merciful, and if you would have me reallybelieve 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, suddenly was heardfrom the chamber a wailing, despairing voice, repeating loudly and intones of anguish: "Mercy, your majesty, mercy!" The king turned roundimpetuously, and his face assumed a dark, wrathful expression. Hefastened his searching eyes on Catharine, as though he would read in herlooks whether she knew who had dared to interrupt their conversation. 

But Catharine's countenance expressed unconcealed astonishment. "Mercy, mercy!" repeated the voice from the interior of the chamber. 

The king uttered an angry exclamation, and hastily withdrew from thebalcony. 

CHAPTER IV. KING BY THE WRATH OF GOD. 

"Who dares interrupt us?" cried the king, as with headlong step hereturned to the chamber--"who dares speak of mercy?"

"I dare!" said a young lady, who, pale, with distorted features, infrightful agitation, now hastened to the king and prostrated herselfbefore him. "Anne Askew!" cried Catharine, amazed. "Anne, what want youhere?"

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

"Oh, sire, have compassion on this poor child!" besought Catharine, turning to Henry, "compassion on her impassioned excitement andher youthful ardor! She is as yet unaccustomed to these frightfulscenes--she knows not yet that it is the sad duty of kings to beconstrained to punish, where they might prefer to pardon!"

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

"Anne Askew, if I mistake not, is your second maid of honor?" asked theking; "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 she hadalready won my heart at our first meeting, and I feel that I shall loveher. Exercise forbearance, then, your majesty!"

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

"Why, then, do you interest yourself for this young lady, if you did notknow her?"

"She has been so warmly recommended to me. "

"By whom?"

Catharine hesitated a moment; she felt that she had, perhaps, in herzeal, gone too far, and that it was imprudent to tell the king thetruth. But the king's keen, penetrating look was resting on her, and sherecollected that he had, the first thing that evening, so urgently andsolemnly conjured her to always tell him the truth. Besides, it was nosecret at court who the protector of this young maiden was, and who hadbeen the means of her obtaining the place of maid of honor to the queen, a place which so many wealthy and distinguished families had solicitedfor their daughters. 

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

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

At that moment was heard without, more loudly, the roll of drums, whichnevertheless was partially drowned by piercing shrieks and horriblecries of distress. The blaze of the fire shot up higher, and now wasseen the bright flame, which with murderous rage licked the sky above. 

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

"My God, my God!" said she, quivering from the internal tremor, andstretching her hands beseechingly toward the king, "do you not hear thatfrightful wail of the wretched? Sire, by the thought of your own dyinghour, I conjure you have compassion on these miserable beings! Let themnot, at least, be thrown alive into the flames. Spare them this lastfrightful torture. "

King Henry cast a wrathful look on the kneeling girl; then strodepast her to the door, which led into the adjoining hall, in which thecourtiers 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 spectacle, and thischamber, just before so quiet, was suddenly changed to the theatre ofa great drama, which was perhaps to end tragically. In the queen'sbedchamber, a small room, but furnished with the utmost luxury andsplendor, the principal characters of this scene were congregated. Inthe middle of the space stood the king in his robes, embroidered withgold and sparkling with jewels, which were irradiated by the brightlight of the chandelier. Near him was seen the young queen, whosebeautiful and lovely face was turned in anxious expectation towardthe king, in whose stern and rigid features she sought to read thedevelopment of this scene. 

Not far from her still knelt the young maiden, hiding in her hands herface drenched in tears; while farther away, in the background, were thetwo bishops observing with grave, cool tranquillity the group beforethem. Through the open hall doors were descried the expectant andcurious countenances of the courtiers standing with their heads crowdedclose 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 thedrama, the piercing shrieks and the yells of the people. 

A deep silence ensued, and when the king spoke, the tone of his voicewas so hard and cold, that an involuntary shudder ran through allpresent. 

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

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

Cranmer's look was gentle and serious, and at the same time acompassionate 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, protrudinglips was the joyful and merciless smile of a priest ready to sacrifice avictim to his idol. 

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

"God, who blesses the righteous and punishes and destroys sinners, bewith thee and with us all!" said Gardiner. 

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

"Touch me not; you are the hangman of those poor people whom they areputting to death down yonder, " said she impetuously; and as she turnedto 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 theyare putting to death down there? Tell me, forsooth, my lord bishops, whoare they that are led to the stake to-day? Who are the condemned?"

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

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

"Ah, behold this young 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 andimpartially, as always, punished only criminals and given over theguilty to justice. "

"Oh, had you seen what I have seen, " said Anne Askew, shuddering, "thenwould you collect all your vital energies for a single cry, for a singleword--mercy! and that word would you shout out loud enough to reach yonfrightful 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 thesombre forms of the bishops. Her eye was fixed and glaring; her nobleand delicate features bore the expression of horror and dread. 

"I saw, " said she, "a woman whom they were leading to execution. Not acriminal, but a noble lady, whose proud and lofty heart never harboreda thought of treason or disloyalty, but who, true to her faith and herconvictions, would not forswear the God whom she served. As she passedthrough the crowd, it seemed as if a halo encompassed her head, andcovered her white hair with silvery rays; all bowed before her, and thehardest natures wept over the unfortunate woman who had lived more thanseventy years, and yet was not allowed to die in her bed, but was tobe slaughtered to the glory of God and of the king. But she smiled, andgraciously saluting the weeping and sobbing multitude, she advanced tothe scaffold as if she were ascending a throne to receive the homage ofher people. Two years of imprisonment had blanched her cheek, but hadnot been able to destroy the fire of her eye, or the strength of hermind, and seventy years had not bowed her neck or broken her spirit. Proud and firm, she mounted the steps of the scaffold, and once moresaluted the people and cried aloud, 'I will pray to God for you. ' But asthe headsman approached and demanded that she should allow her hands tobe bound, and that she should kneel in order to lay her head upon theblock, she refused, and angrily pushed him away. 'Only traitors andcriminals lay their head on the block!' exclaimed she, with a loud, thundering voice. 'There is no occasion for me to do so, and I will notsubmit 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 withfear and horror. The countess flew like a hunted beast round andround the scaffold. Her white hair streamed in the wind; her blackgrave-clothes rustled around her like a dark cloud, and behind her, with uplifted axe, came the headsman, in his fiery red dress; he, everendeavoring to strike her with the falling axe, but she, ever trying, by moving her head to and fro, to evade the descending stroke. But atlength her resistance became weaker; the blows of the axe reached her, and stained her white hair, hanging loose about her shoulders, withcrimson streaks. With a heart-rending cry, she fell fainting. Near her, exhausted also, sank down the headsman, bathed in sweat. This horriblewild chase had lamed his arm and broken his strength. Panting andbreathless, he was not able to drag this fainting, bleeding woman to theblock, or to lift up the axe to separate her noble head from the body. [Footnote: Tytler, p. 430] The crowd shrieked with distress and horror, imploring and begging for mercy, and even the lord chief justice couldnot refrain from tears, and he ordered the cruel work to be suspendeduntil the countess and the headsman should have regained strength; fora living, not a dying person was to be executed: thus said the law. Theymade a pallet for the countess on the scaffold and endeavored to restoreher; invigorating wine was supplied to the headsman, to renew hisstrength for the work of death; and the crowd turned to the stakes whichwere prepared on both sides of the scaffold, and at which four othermartyrs were to be burnt. But I flew here like a hunted doe, and now, king, I lie at your feet. There is still time. Pardon, king, pardon forthe Countess of Somerset, the last of the Plantagenets. "

"Pardon, sire, pardon!" repeated Catharine Parr, weeping and trembling, as she clung to her husband's side. "Pardon!" repeated ArchbishopCranmer; and a few of the courtiers re-echoed it in a timid and anxiouswhisper. 

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

"The Lord our God is a jealous God, " said Gardiner, solemnly, "and itis written that God will punish the sinner unto the third and fourthgeneration. "

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

"Sire, think of your high vocation!" exclaimed Anne Askew, in a tone ofenthusiasm. "Reflect what a glorious name you have assumed to yourselfin this land. You call yourself the head of the Church, and you want torule and govern upon earth in God's stead. Exercise mercy, then, for youentitle yourself king by the grace of God. "

"No, I do not call myself king by God's grace; I call myself king byGod's wrath!" exclaimed Henry, as he raised his arm menacingly. "It ismy duty to send sinners to God; may He have mercy on them there above, if He will! I am the punishing judge, and I judge mercilessly, accordingto the law, without compassion. Let those whom I have condemned appealto God, and may He have mercy upon them. I cannot do it, nor will I. Kings are here to punish, and they are like to God, not in His love, butin His avenging wrath. "

"Woe, then, woe to you and to all of us!" exclaimed Anne Askew. "Woe toyou, King Henry, if what you now say is the truth! Then are they right, those men who are bound to yonder stakes, when they brand you with thename of tyrant; then is the Bishop of Rome right when he upbraids youas an apostate and degenerate son, and hurls his anathemas against you!Then you know not God, who is love and mercy; then you are no discipleof the Saviour, who has said, 'Love your enemies, bless them that curseyou. ' Woe to you, King Henry, if matters are really so bad with you;if--"

"Silence, unhappy woman, silence!" exclaimed Catharine; and as shevehemently pushed away the furious girl she grasped the king's hand, andpressed it to her lips. "Sire, " whispered she, with intense earnestness, "Sire, you told me just now that you loved me. Prove it by pardoningthis maiden, and having consideration for her impassioned excitement. Prove it by allowing me to lead Anne Askew to her room and enjoinsilence upon her. "

But at this moment the king was wholly inaccessible to any otherfeelings 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 mannerof 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 remainedin that state of exaltation which cares for no consequences and whichtrembles before no danger. She would at this moment have gone to thestake with cheerful alacrity, and she almost longed for this blessedmartyrdom. 

"Speak, Anne Askew, speak!" commanded the king. "Tell me, do you knowwhat 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, withburning passionateness. "I know why you have sent the noble countess tothe slaughter-house, and why you will exercise no mercy toward her. Sheis of noble, of royal blood, and Cardinal Pole is her son. You wouldpunish the son through the mother, and because you cannot throttle thecardinal, 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 hiddenfeelings. Without doubt you are a good papist, since the death of thepopish countess fills you with such heart-rending grief. Then you mustconfess, at the least, that it is right to burn the four heretics!"

"Heretics!" exclaimed Anne, enthusiastically, "call you heretics thosenoble men who go gladly and boldly to death for their convictionsand their faith? King Henry! King Henry! Woe to you if these men arecondemned as heretics! They alone are the faithful, they are the trueservants of God. They have freed themselves from human supremacy, and asyou would not recognize the pope, so they will not recognize you as headof the Church! God alone, they say, is Lord of the Church and Masterof their consciences, and who can be presumptuous enough to call themcriminals?"

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

And haughtily raising his crimsoned face and rolling his great bloodshoteyes wildly around the circle, he continued: "Hear this all of you whoare here assembled; no mercy for heretics, no pardon for papists. It isI, I alone, whom the Lord our God has chosen and blessed as His hangmanand executioner! I am the high-priest of His Church, and he who daresdeny me, denies God; and he who is so presumptuous as to do reverenceto any other head of the Church, is a priest of Baal and kneels to anidolatrous image. Kneel down all of you before me, and reverence in meGod, whose earthly representative I am, and who reveals Himself throughme in His fearful and exalted majesty. Kneel down, for I am sole head ofthe Church and high-priest of our God!"

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

The king gazed for a moment on this sight, and, with radiant looks anda smile of triumph, his eyes ran over this assembly, consisting of thenoblest 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 theking's countenance. 

"You obey not my command?" asked he. 

She shook her curly head and fixed on him a steady, piercing look. "No, "said she, "like those over yonder whose last death-groan we even nowhear, like them, I say: To God alone is honor due, and He alone is Lordof His Church! If you wish me to bend my knee before you as my king, Iwill 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 turnedwith fear and amazement on this bold young girl, who confronted the kingwith a countenance smiling and glowing with enthusiasm. 

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

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

Not as though wrath and passion had deprived him of speech. He wasneither wrathful nor passionate, and it was only joy that obstructed hisbreathing--the joy of having again found a victim with which he mightsatisfy 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 adeath-warrant. For then he was in full enjoyment of his greatnessas lord over the lives and deaths of millions of other men, and thisfeeling made him proud and happy, and fully conscious of his exaltedposition. 

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

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

"I know it, sire. "

"And you know what punishment awaits traitors?"

"Death, I know it. "

"Death by fire!" said the king with perfect calmness and composure. A hollow murmur ran through the assembly. Only one voice dared giveutterance to the word mercy. 

It was Catharine, the king's consort, who spoke this one word. Shestepped forward, and was about to rush to the king and once more implorehis mercy and pity. But she felt herself gently held back. ArchbishopCranmer stood near her, regarding her with a serious and beseechinglook. 

"Compose yourself, compose yourself, " murmured he. "You cannot save her;she is lost. Think of yourself, and of the pure and holy religionwhose protectress you are. Preserve yourself for your Church and yourcompanions in the faith!"

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

"Perhaps we may still save her, but this is not the moment for it. Anyopposition now would only irritate the king the more, and he mightcause the girl to be instantly thrown into the flames of the fires stillburning yonder! So let us be silent. "

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

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

CHAPTER V. THE RIVALS. 

At the very moment when the king was pronouncing, in a voice almostexultant, Anne Askew's sentence of death, one of the king's cavaliersappeared on the threshold of the royal chamber and advanced toward theking. 

He was a young man of noble and imposing appearance, whose lofty bearingcontrasted strangely with the humble and submissive attitude of therest of the courtiers. His tall, slim form was clad in a coat of mailglittering with gold; over his shoulders hung a velvet mantle decoratedwith a princely crown; and his head, covered with dark ringlets, wasadorned with a cap embroidered with gold, from which a long whiteostrich-feather drooped to his shoulder. His oval face presentedthe 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 delicatelychiselled aquiline nose gave to his face an expression at once bold andthoughtful. The eyes alone were not in harmony with his face; they wereneither languid like the mouth, nor pensive like the brow. All thefire 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 acompletely worn-out, misanthropic aristocrat; but when he raised thoseever-flashing and sparkling eyes, then was seen the young man fullof dashing courage and ambitious desires, of passionate warmth andmeasureless pride. 

He approached the king, as already stated, and as he bent his kneebefore him, he said in a full, pleasant voice:

"Mercy, sire, mercy!"

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

"Thomas Seymour!" said he. "Thomas, you have returned, then, and yourfirst act is again an indiscretion and a piece of foolhardy rashness?"

The young man smiled. "I have returned, " said he, "that is to say, Ihave had a sea-fight with the Scots and taken from them four men-of-war. With these I hastened hither to present them to you, my king and lord, as a wedding-gift, and just as I entered the anteroom I heard your voicepronouncing a sentence of death. Was it not natural, then, that I, whobring you tidings of a victory, should have the heart to utter aprayer for mercy, for which, as it seems, none of these noble and proudcavaliers 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 imploringpardon?"

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

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

"But I see that she is a woman, " said the intrepid young earl. "And awoman is always worthy of mercy, and it becomes every knight to comeforward as her defender, were it but to pay homage to her sex, so fairand so frail, and yet so noble and mighty. Therefore I beg mercy forthis young maiden!"

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

"He will plunge himself into ruin, " murmured she; "he will not saveAnne, but will make himself unhappy. My God, my God, have a littlecompassion and pity on my anguish!"

She now fixed her anxious gaze on the king, firmly resolved to rushto the help of the earl, who had so nobly and magnanimously interestedhimself in an innocent woman, should the wrath of her husband threatenhim also. But, to her surprise, Henry's face was perfectly serene andcontented. 

Like the wild beast, that, following its instinct, seeks its bloody preyonly 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 wereburned; there stood the scaffold on which the Countess of Somerset hadjust been executed; and now, within this hour, he had already foundanother new victim for death. Moreover, Thomas Seymour had always beenhis favorite. His audacity, his liveliness, his energy, had alwaysinspired the king with respect; and then, again, he so much resembledhis sister, the beautiful Jane Seymour, Henry's third wife. 

"I cannot grant you this favor, Thomas, " said the king. "Justice mustnot be hindered in her course, and where she has passed sentence, mercymust not give her the lie; and it was the justice of your king whichpronounced sentence at that moment. You were guilty, therefore, of adouble wrong, for you not only besought mercy, but you also brought anaccusation against my cavaliers. Do you really believe that, were thismaiden'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 ofyour favor had turned away from this poor girl, and in such a case yourcourtiers no longer see the figure wrapped in darkness. "

"You are mistaken, my lord; I have seen it, " suddenly said anothervoice, and a second cavalier advanced from the anteroom into thechamber. He approached the king, and, as he bent his knee before him, hesaid, 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 ladiesstood, a low cry, and the pale, affrighted face of Lady Jane Douglas wasfor a moment raised above the heads of the other ladies. No one noticedit. All eyes were directed 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 anexpression of wrath passed over his countenance. "How! you, too, dare intercede for this girl? You, then, grudge Thomas Seymour thepre-eminence of being the most discreet man at my court?"

"I will not allow him, sire, to think that he is the bravest, " repliedthe 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, mydear Earl of Surrey, to tread behind me, at your convenience, the path, the safety of which I first tested at the peril of my life. You saw thatI 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 anew proof of your prudent valor, my Honorable Earl of Surrey, and I mustpraise you for it. "

A hot flush suffused the noble face of the earl, his eyes shotlightning, 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 thattwo of the noblest cavaliers of my court have turned the day, whichshould be one of festivity to all of you, into a day of contention. Icommand you, therefore, to be reconciled. Shake hands, my lords, and letyour reconciliation be sincere. I, the king command it!"

The young men gazed at each other with looks of hatred and smotheredrage, and their eyes spoke the insulting and defiant words which theirlips durst no longer utter. The king had ordered, and, however greatand 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, butwhich neither of them understood. 

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

"And you, Thomas Seymour, do you also renew your petition?"

"No, I withdraw it. Earl Surrey protects her; I, therefore, retire, forwithout doubt she is a criminal; your majesty says so, and, therefore, it is so. It would ill become a Seymour to protect a person who sinnedagainst the king. "

This new indirect attack on Earl Surrey seemed to make on all present adeep but very varied impression. Here, faces were seen to turn pale, and there, to light up with a malicious smile; here, compressedlips muttered words of threatening, there, a mouth opened to expressapprobation and agreement. 

The king's brow was clouded and troubled; the arrow which Earl Sudleyhad shot with so skilful a hand had hit. The king, ever suspicious anddistrustful, felt so much the more disquieted as he saw that the greaterpart of his cavaliers evidently reckoned themselves friends of HenryHoward, and that the number of Seymour's adherents was but trifling. 

"These Howards are dangerous, and I will watch them carefully, " said theking to himself; and for the first time his eye rested with a dark andhostile 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 nowalmost an impossibility to speak in her behalf, and to implore pardonfor her was to become a partaker of her crime. Thomas Seymour hadabandoned her, because, as traitress to her king, she had renderedherself unworthy of his protection. Who now would be so presumptuous asto still protect the traitress?

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

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

"He is lost!" murmured Lady Jane Douglas; and, completely crushedand lifeless, she leaned for a moment against the wall. But she soonrecovered herself, and her eye beamed with bold resolution. "I will tryand save him!" she said to herself; and, with firm step, she advancedfrom the ladies' ranks, and approached the king. 

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

Lady Jane bowed her beautiful and haughty head before the king, andsaid, 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. LordSurrey has done so because a true knight can never be false to himselfand his ever high and sacred obligation: to be the protector of thosewho are helpless and in peril is enough for him. A real gentleman asksnot whether a woman is worthy of his protection; he grants it toher, simply because she is a woman, and needs his help. And while I, therefore, in the name of all the women, thank the Earl of Surrey forthe assistance that he has been desirous to render to a woman, I unitemy prayer with his, because it shall not be said that we women arealways cowardly and timid, and never venture to hasten to the help ofthe distressed. I, therefore, ask mercy, sire, mercy for Anne Askew!"

"And I, " said the queen, as she again approached the king, "I add myprayers 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 anexpression so radiant and happy, that the king could not withstand her. 

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

"Well, then, " said he, after a pause, "I will comply with your request. I will pardon Anne Askew, provided she will retract, and solemnly abjureall 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, although everyone was occupied by her concerns, had been entirely overlooked and leftunnoticed. 

Nor had she taken any more notice of the company than they of her. Shehad scarcely observed what was going on about her. She stood leaningagainst the open door leading to the balcony, and gazed at the flaminghorizon. Her soul was with those pious martyrs, for whom she wassending up her heart-felt prayers to God, and whom she, in her feverishexaltation, envied their death of torture. Entirely borne away from thepresent, 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. 

"Anne Askew, " said she, in a hurried whisper, "if your life is dear toyou, 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 impassionedagony of a poor girl, who has now, for the first time, been witness ofan execution, and whose mind has been so much impressed by it that sheis scarcely conscious of the mad and criminal words that she hasuttered before you! Pardon her, then, your majesty, for she is preparedcheerfully to retract. "

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

"I retract!" exclaimed she, with a contemptuous smile. "Never, my lady, never! No! as sure as I hope for God to be gracious to me in my lasthour, I retract not! It is true, it was agony and horror that made mespeak; but what I have spoken is yet, nevertheless, the truth. Horrorcaused me to speak, and forced me to show my soul undisguised. No, Iretract not! I tell you, they who have been executed over yonder areholy martyrs, who have ascended to God, there to enter an accusationagainst their royal hangman. Ay, they are holy, for eternal truth hadillumined their souls, and it beamed about their faces bright as theflames of the fagots into which the murderous hand of an unrighteousjudge had cast them. Ah, I must retract! I, forsooth, am to do as didShaxton, the miserable and unfaithful servant of his God, who, fromfear of earthly death, denied the eternal truth, and in blasphemingpusillanimity perjured himself concerning the holy doctrine. [Footnote:Burnet, vol. I, p. 341] King Henry, I say unto you, beware ofdissemblers and perjurers; beware of your own haughty and arrogantthoughts. The blood of martyrs cries to Heaven against you, and the timewill come when God will be as merciless to you as you have been to thenoblest of your subjects! You deliver them over to the murderous flames, because they will not believe what the priests of Baal preach; becausethey will not believe in the real transubstantiation of the chalice;because they deny that the natural body of Christ is, after thesacrament, contained in the sacrament, no matter whether the priest bea good or a bad man. [Footnote: Ibid. ] You give them over to theexecutioner, because they serve the truth, and are faithful followers ofthe Lord their God!"

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

"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, nopossible 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'sraging wrath. 

When the king thus smiled, he had taken his resolve. Then there was withhim no possible vacillation or hesitation, but the sentence of death wasresolved on, and his bloodthirsty 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 himwith angry, contemptuous looks. 

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

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

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

With a smile, Anne Askew offered them her hand, and surrounded by thesoldiers and followed by the Bishop of Winchester and the lord chiefjustice, walked erect and proudly out of the room. 

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

The king extended his hand to his young wife, and, bending down, whispered in her ear a few words, which nobody understood, but whichmade the young queen tremble and blush. 

The king, who observed this, laughed and impressed a kiss on herforehead. Then he turned to his court; "Now, good-night, my lords andgentlemen, " said he, with a gracious inclination of the head. "The feastis at an end, and we need rest. "

"Forget not the Princess Elizabeth, " whispered Archbishop Cranmer, as hetook leave of Catharine, and pressed to his lips her proffered hand. 

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

CHAPTER VI. THE INTERCESSION. 

"And now, Kate, " said the king, when all had withdrawn, and he was againalone with her, "now let us forget everything, save that we love eachother. "

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

"You give me no kiss, Kate?" said Henry, with a smile. "Are you then yetangry with me that I did not comply with your first request? But whatwould you have me do, child? How, indeed, shall I keep the crimson of myroyal mantle always fresh and bright, unless I continually dye it anewin the blood of criminals? Only he who punishes and destroys is trulya king, and trembling mankind will acknowledge him as such. Thetender-hearted and gracious king it despises, and his pitiful weaknessit laughs to scorn. Bah! Humanity is such a wretched, miserable thing, that it only respects and acknowledges him who makes it tremble. Andpeople are such contemptible, foolish children, that they have respectonly for him who makes them feel the lash daily, and every now and thenwhips a few of them to death. Look at me, Kate: where is there a kingwho has reigned longer and more happily than I? whom the people lovemore and obey better than me? This arises from the fact that I havealready signed more than two hundred death-warrants, [Footnote: Tytler, p. 428. Leti, vol. I, p. 187. ] and because every one believes that, if he does not obey me, I will without delay send his head after theothers!"

"Oh, you say you love me, " murmured Catharine, "and you speak only ofblood 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, andcould you look down into it, you would not accuse me of coldness andunkindness. I love you truly, my dear, virgin bride, and, to prove it, you shall now ask a favor 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 brilliants, or acastle by the sea, or, perhaps, a yacht? Would you like fine horses, orit 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 itdrops at your feet. For I am almighty and all-powerful, and no one isso innocent and pure, that my will cannot find in him a crime which willcost him his life. Speak, then, Kate; what would you have? What willgladden your heart?"

Catharine smiled in spite of her secret fear and horror. "Sire, " saidshe, "you have given me so many brilliants, that I can shine and glitterwith them, as night does with her stars. If you give me a castle by thesea, that is, at the same time, banishing me from Whitehall and yourpresence; I wish, therefore, for no castle of my own. I wish only todwell with you in your castles, and my king's abode shall be my onlyresidence. "

"Beautifully and wisely spoken, " said the king; "I will remember thesewords if ever your enemies endeavor to send you to a dwelling and acastle other than that which your king occupies. The Tower is also acastle, Kate, but I give you my royal word you shall never occupy thatcastle. You want no treasures and no castles? It is, then, somebody'shead that you demand of me?"

"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 bebrought 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 belifted up. I beg you for a human life--not to destroy it, but, on thecontrary, to adorn it with happiness and joy. I wish to drag no one toprison, but to restore to one, dearly beloved, the freedom, happiness, and splendid position which belong to her. Sire, you have permitted meto ask a favor. Now, then, I beg you to call the Princess Elizabeth tocourt. Let her reside with us at Whitehall. Allow her to be ever nearme, and share my happiness and glory. Sire, only yesterday the PrincessElizabeth was far above me in rank and position, but since yourall-powerful might and grace have to-day elevated me above all otherwomen, I may now love the Princess Elizabeth as my sister and dearestfriend. Grant me this, my king! Let Elizabeth come to us at Whitehall, and enjoy at our court the honor which is her due. " [Footnote: Leti, vol. I. P. 147. Tytler. P. 410. ]

The king did not reply immediately; but in his quiet and smiling airone could read that his young consort's request had not angered him. Something like an emotion flitted across his face, and his eyes werefor a moment dimmed with tears. Perhaps just then a pale, soul-harrowingphantom passed before his mind, and a glance at the past showed him thebeautiful and unfortunate mother [Footnote: Ann Boleyn] of Elizabeth, whom he had sentenced to a cruel death at the hands of the publicexecutioner, and whose last word nevertheless was a blessing and amessage of love for him. 

He passionately seized Catharine's hand and pressed it to his lips. "Ithank 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 andcourageous, for you have dared what nobody before you has dared; youhave twice on the same evening interceded for one condemned and onefallen into disgrace. The fortunate, and those favored by me, havealways had many friends, but I have never yet seen that the unfortunateand the exiled have also found friends. You are different from thesemiserable, cringing courtiers; different from this deceitful andtrembling crowd, that with chattering teeth fall down and worship meas their god and lord; different from these pitiful, good-for-nothingmortals, who call themselves my people, and who allow me to yoke themup, 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 thepeople were not such an utterly stupid and contemptible thing; a dog, which is so much the more submissive and gentle the more you maltreathim. You, Kate, you are different, and I am glad of it. You know, I haveforever banished Elizabeth from my court and from my heart, and stillyou intercede for her. That is noble of you, and I love you for it, andgrant 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 haveElizabeth 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 deepeyes, to be a kind and tender father to her, and make some amends to herfor the wrong I perhaps may have done to her mother. For sometimes, insleepless nights, Anne's beautiful face comes up before me and gazes atme with mournful, mild look, and my whole heart shudders before it. But I could not confess this to anybody, for then they might say that Irepented what I had done. A king must be infallible, like God himself, and never, through regret or desire to compensate, confess that he is aweak, erring mortal, like others. You see why I repressed my longing andparental tenderness, which was suspected by no one, and appeared to bea heartless father, because nobody would help me and make it easy forme to be a tender father. Ah, these courtiers! They are so stupid, thatthey can understand only just what is echoed in our words; but whatour 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 husbandgives you, my beautiful, charming queen. "

CHAPTER VII. HENRY THE EIGHTH AND HIS WIVES. 

The calm of night had now succeeded to the tempest of the day, and afterso much bustle, festivity, and rejoicing, deep quiet now reigned in thepalace of Whitehall, and throughout London. The happy subjects of KingHenry might, without danger, remain for a few hours at least in theirhouses, and behind closed shutters and bolted doors, either slumber anddream, or give themselves to their devotional exercises, on account ofwhich they had that day, perhaps, been denounced as malefactors. Theymight, for a few hours, resign themselves to the sweet, blissful dreamof being freemen untrammelled in belief and thought. For King Henryslept, and likewise Gardiner and the lord chancellor had closed theirwatchful, prying, devout, murderous eyes, and reposed awhile from theChristian employment of ferreting out heretics. 

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

It appeared, however, as though not all the court officials were takingrest, and following the example of the king. For in a chamber, not farfrom that of the royal pair, one could perceive, from the bright beamsstreaming from the windows, in spite of the heavy damask curtains whichveiled them, that the lights were not yet extinguished; and he wholooked more closely would have observed that now and then a human shadowwas portrayed upon the curtain. 

So the occupant of this chamber had not yet gone to rest, and harassingmust have been the thoughts which cause him to move so restlessly to andfro. 

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

For Catharine knew not what changes had taken place in the character ofher friend in the four years in which she had not seen her. She did notsuspect how fatal her sojourn in the strongly Romish city of Dublin hadbeen to the easily impressible mind of her early playmate, and how muchit had transformed her whole being. Lady Jane, once so sprightly andgay, had become a bigoted Romanist, who, with fanatical zeal, believedthat she was serving God when she served the Church, and paid unreservedobedience to her priests. 

Lady Jane Douglas had therefore--thanks to her fanaticism and theteachings of the priests--become a complete dissembler. She could smile, while in her heart she secretly brooded over hatred and revenge. Shecould kiss the lips of those whose destruction she had perhaps justsworn. She could preserve a harmless, innocent air, while she observedeverything, and took notice of every breath, every smile, every movementof the eyelashes. 

Hence it was very important for Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, to bringhis "friend" of the queen to court, and make of this disciple of Loyolaan ally and friend. 

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

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; hercountenance 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 theChurch, and to consecrate her whole life to this service; she whoseheart had been hitherto open only to ambition and devotion, she feltto-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 violently at that heart which devotion had overlaid with a hardcoating. 

She had tried to collect herself in prayer, and to fill her soul soentirely with the idea of God and her Church, that no earthly thoughtor desire could find place therein. But ever and again arose before hermind's eye the noble countenance of Henry Howard, ever and again shefancied that she heard his earnest, melodious voice, which made herheart shake and tremble like a magical incantation. She had at firststruggled against these sweet fancies, which forced upon her suchstrange and undreamed-of thoughts; but at length the woman in her gotthe better of the fanatical Romanist, and, dropping into a seat, shesurrendered herself to her dreams and fancies. 

"Has he recognized me?" asked she of herself. "Does he still rememberthat 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 theneyes and sense only for his young wife. Ah, and she was beautiful andlovely as one of the Graces. But I, am not I also beautiful? andhave not the noblest cavaliers paid me homage, and sighed for me inunavailing love? How comes it, then, that where I would please, thereI am always overlooked? How comes it, that the only two men, for whosenotice I ever cared, have never shown any preference for me? I felt thatI loved Henry Howard, but this love was a sin, for the Earl of Surreywas married. I therefore tore my heart from him by violence, and gaveit to God, because the only man whom I could love did not return myaffection. But even God and devotion are not able to entirely fill awoman's heart. In my breast there was still room for ambition; and sinceI could not be a happy wife, I would at least be a powerful queen. Oh, everything was so well devised, so nicely arranged! Gardiner had alreadyspoken of me to the king, and inclined him to his plan; and while Iwas hastening at his call from Duma, hither, this little Catharine Parrcomes between and snatches him from me, and overturns all our schemes. I will never forgive her. I will find a way to revenge myself. I willforce her to leave this place, which belongs to me, and if there is noother way for it, she must go the way of the scaffold, as did CatharineHoward. I will be Queen of England, I will--"

She suddenly interrupted her soliloquy, and listened. She thought sheheard a slight knock at the door. She was not mistaken; this knock wasnow repeated, and indeed with a peculiar, significant stroke. 

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

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

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

The earl seated himself on the ottoman, and drew his daughter down byhim. 

"No one can overhear us, can they?"

"Nobody, my father! My women are sleeping in the fourth chamber fromhere, and I have myself fastened the intervening doors. The anteroomthrough which you came is, as you know, entirely empty, and nobody canconceal himself there. It remains, then, only to fasten the door leadingthence 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 shereturned 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 aharmless and innocent little maiden you still are! Have I not constantlyreiterated the great and wise lesson, 'Doubt everything and mistrusteverything, even what you see. ' He who will make his fortune at court, must first of all mistrust everybody, and consider everybody his enemy, whom he is to flatter, because he can do him harm, and whom he is to hugand kiss, until in some happy embrace he can either plunge a daggerinto his breast wholly unobserved, or pour poison into his mouth. Trustneither men nor walls, Jane, for I tell you, however smooth and innocentboth may appear, still there may be found an ambuscade behind thesmooth exterior. But I will for the present believe that these walls areinnocent, and conceal no listeners. I will believe it, because Iknow this room. Those were fine and charming days in which I becameacquainted with it. Then I was yet young and handsome, and King Henry'ssister was not yet married to the King of Scotland, and we loved eachother so dearly. Ah, I could relate to you wonderful stories of thosehappy days. I could--"

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

"It is true, " said Lord Douglas, sadly. "I now sometimes becomeloquacious--a sure sign that I am growing old. I have, by no means, comehere to speak of the past, but of the present. Let us, then, speak ofit. Ah, I have to-day perceived much, seen much, observed much, and theresult of my observations is, you will be King Henry's seventh wife. "

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

Her father remarked it. "My child, " said he, "I observe that you havenot yet your features entirely under your control. You aimed just now, for example, to play the coy and humble, and yet your face had theexpression of proud satisfaction. But this by the way! The principalthing is, you will be King Henry's seventh wife! But in order to becomeso, there is need for great heedfulness, a complete knowledge ofpresent relations, constant observation of all persons, impenetrabledissimulation, and lastly, above all things, a very intimate andprofound knowledge of the king, of the history of his reign, and of hischaracter. Do you possess this knowledge? Know you what it is to wishto become King Henry's seventh wife, and how you must begin in order toattain this? Have you studied Henry's character?"

"A little, perhaps, but certainly not sufficiently. For, as you know, mylord, worldly matters have lain upon my heart less than the holy Church, to whose service I have consecrated myself, and to which I would havepresented 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 retired into aconvent in Scotland in order to spend my life in quiet contemplation andpious penances, and close my soul and ear to every profane sound. Butmy wishes have not been regarded; and, by the mouth of His venerable andholy priests, God has commanded me to remain in the world, and take uponmyself the yoke of greatness and regal splendor. If I then struggleand strive to become queen, this is done, not because the vain pomp andglory allure me, but solely because through me the Church, out of whichis no salvation, may find a fulcrum to operate on this weak and fickleking, and because I am to bring him back again to the only true faith. "

"Very well played!" cried her father, who had stared her steadily in theface while she was speaking. "On my word, very well played. Everythingwas in perfect harmony, the gesticulation, the play of the eyes, and thevoice. My daughter, I withdraw my censure. You have perfect control overyourself. But let us speak of King Henry. We will now subject him to athorough analysis, and no fibre of his heart, no atom of his brainshall remain unnoticed by us. We will observe him in his domestic, hispolitical, and his religious life, and get a perfectly clear view ofevery peculiarity of his character, in order that we may deal with himaccordingly. Let us, then, speak first of his wives. Their lives anddeaths afford you excellent finger-posts; for I do not deny that it isan extremely difficult and dangerous undertaking to be Henry'sconsort. There is needed for it much personal courage and very greatself-control. Know you which, of all his wives, possessed these inthe highest degree? It was his first consort, Catharine of Aragon! ByHeaven, she was a sensible woman, and born a queen! Henry, avaricious ashe was, would gladly have given the best jewel in his crown, if he couldhave detected but a shadow, the slightest trace of unfaithfulness inher. But there was absolutely no means of sending this woman to thescaffold, and at that time he was as yet too cowardly and too virtuousto put her out of the way by poison. He, therefore, endured her long, until she was an old woman with gray hairs, and disagreeable for hiseyes to look upon. So after he had been married to her seventeenyears, the good, pious king was all at once seized with a conscientiousscruple, and because he had read in the Bible, 'Thou shalt not marrythy sister, ' dreadful pangs of conscience came upon the noble and craftymonarch. He fell upon his knees and beat his breast, and cried: 'Ihave committed a great sin; for I have married my brother's wife, andconsequently my sister. But I will make amends for it. I will dissolvethis adulterous marriage!'--Do you know, child, why he would dissolveit?"

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

"Perfectly correct! Catharine had grown old, and Henry was still a youngman, and his blood shot through his veins like streams of fire. Hut hewas yet somewhat virtuous and timid, and the main peculiarity of hischaracter was as yet undeveloped. He was not yet bloodthirsty, that isto say, he had not yet licked blood. But you will see how with each newqueen his desire for blood increased, till at length it has now become awasting disease. Had he then had the system of lies that he now has, hewould somehow have bribed a slanderer, who would have declared thathe was Catharine's lover. But he was yet so innocent; he wanted yet togratify his darling lusts in a perfectly legal way. So Anne Boleyn mustbecome 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 thepope, and set himself in open opposition to the holy head of the Church. Because the Holy Father would not dissolve his marriage, King Henrybecame an apostate and atheist. He constituted himself head of hisChurch, and, by virtue of his authority as such, he declared hismarriage with Catharine of Aragon null and void. He said that he hadnot in his heart given his consent to this marriage, and that it hadnot consequently been properly consummated. [Footnote: Burnet, vol. I, p. 37. ] It is true, Catharine had in the Princess Mary a living witness ofthe consummation of her marriage, but what did the enamored and selfishking care about that? Princess Mary was declared a bastard, and thequeen was now to be nothing more than the widow of the Prince of Wales. It was strictly forbidden to longer give the title and to show the honordue to a queen, to the woman who for seventeen years had been Queen ofEngland, and had been treated and honored as such. No one was permittedto call her anything but the Princess of Wales; and that nothing mightdisturb the good people or the noble queen herself in this illusion, Catharine was banished from the court and exiled to a castle, whichshe had once occupied as consort of Arthur, Prince of Wales. And Henrylikewise allowed her only the attendance and pension which the lawappoints to the widow of the Prince of Wales. [Footnote: Burnet, vol. I, p. 120. ]

"I have ever held this to be one of the most prudent and subtle actsof our exalted king, and in the whole history of this divorce the kingconducted himself with admirable consistency and resolution. But thisis to say, he was excited by opposition. Mark this, then, my child, forthis is the reason why I have spoken to you of these things so much atlength. Mark this, then: King Henry is every way entirely unable to bearcontradiction, or to be subjected to restraint. If you wish to win himto any purpose, you must try to draw him from it; you must surroundit with difficulties and hinderances. Therefore show yourself coy andindifferent; that will excite him. Do not court his looks; then will heseek to encounter yours. And when finally he loves you, dwell so long onyour virtue and your conscience, that at length Henry, in order to quietyour conscience, will send this troublesome Catharine Parr to the block, or do as he did with Catharine of Aragon, and declare that he did notmentally give his consent to this marriage, and therefore Catharineis no queen, but only Lord Neville's widow. Ah, since he made himselfhigh-priest of his Church, there is no impediment for him in matters ofthis kind, for only God is mightier than he. 

"The beautiful Anne Boleyn, Henry's second wife, proved this. I haveseen 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 smiledupon felt himself fascinated and glorified. When she had borne to theking the Princess Elizabeth, I heard him say, that he had attained thesummit of his happiness, the goal of his wishes, for the queen had bornehim a daughter, and so there was a regular and legitimate successor tohis throne. But this happiness lasted only a brief time. 

"The king conceived one day that Anne Boleyn was not, as he had hithertobelieved, the most beautiful woman in the world; but that there werewomen still more beautiful at his court, who therefore had a strongervocation to become Queen of England. He had seen Jane Seymour, and shewithout doubt was handsomer than Anne Boleyn, for she was not as yet theking's consort, and there was an obstacle to his possession of her--theQueen Anne Boleyn. This obstacle must be got out of the way. 

"Henry, by virtue of his plentitude of power, might again have beendivorced from his wife, but he did not like to repeat himself, he wishedto be always original; and no one was to be allowed to say that hisdivorces were only the cloak of his capricious lewdness. 

"He had divorced Catharine of Aragon on account of conscientiousscruples; therefore, some other means must be devised for Anne Boleyn. 

"The shortest way to be rid of her was the scaffold. Why should not Annetravel that road, since so many had gone it before her? for a newforce had entered into the king's life: the tiger had licked blood! Hisinstinct was aroused, and he recoiled no more from those crimson rillswhich flowed in the veins of his subjects. 

"He had given Lady Anne Boleyn the crimson mantle of royalty, why thenshould she not give him her crimson blood? For this there was wantedonly a pretext, and this was soon found. Lady Rochfort was JaneSeymour's aunt, and she found some men, of whom she asserted that theyhad been lovers of the fair Anne Boleyn. She, as the queen's first ladyof the bed-chamber, could of course give the most minute particularsconcerning the matter, and the king believed her. He believed her, though these four pretended lovers of the queen, who were executed fortheir crime, all, with the exception of a single one, asseverated thatAnne Boleyn was innocent, and that they had never been in her presence. The only one who accused the queen of illicit intercourse with him wasJames Smeaton, a musician. [Footnote: Tytler. ] But he had been promisedhis life for this confession. However, it was not thought advisable tokeep this promise, for fear that, when confronted with the queen, hemight not have the strength to sustain his assertion. But not to bealtogether unthankful to him for so useful a confession, they showed himthe favor of not executing him with the axe, but the more agreeable andeasier death of hanging was vouchsafed to him. [Footnote: Burnet, vol. I, p. 205. ]

"So the fair and lovely Anne Boleyn must lay her head upon the block. The day on which this took place, the king had ordered a great hunt, andearly that morning we rode out to Epping Forest. The king was at firstunusually cheerful and humorous, and he commanded me to ride near him, and tell him something from the chronique scandaleuse of our court. Helaughed at my spiteful remarks, and the worse I calumniated, the merrierwas the king. Finally, we halted; the king had talked and laughed somuch 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, whichpleased him very much, although he had now become a little quieterand more silent, and sometimes turned his face toward the direction ofLondon with visible restlessness and anxiety. But suddenly was heardfrom that direction the dull sound of a cannon. We all knew that thiswas the signal which was to make known to the king that Anne Boleyn'shead 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. ' [Footnote: The king'svery words. Tytler, p. 383. The oak under which this took place isstill pointed out in Epping Forest, and in fact is not less remarkableas the oak of Charles II. ]

"That, " said Lord Douglas, sadly, "that was King Henry's funeraldiscourse over his charming and innocent wife. "

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

Her father shrugged his shoulders almost contemptuously. That did notprevent Lady Anne from being one of the fairest and loveliest women ofOld England. And, besides, much as she inclined to the new doctrine, she did us essential good service, for she it was who bore the blameof Thomas More's death. Since he had not approved her marriage with theking, she hated him, as the king hated him because he would not take theoath of supremacy. Henry, however, would have spared him, for, at thattime, he still possessed some respect for learning and virtue, andThomas More was so renowned a scholar that the king held him inreverence. But Anne Boleyn demanded his death, and so Thomas More mustbe executed. Oh, believe me, Jane, that was an important and sad hourfor all England, the hour when Thomas More laid his head upon the block. We only, we gay people in the palace of Whitehall, we were cheerfuland merry. We were dancing a new kind of dance, the music of which waswritten by the king himself, for you know the king is not merely anauthor, but also a composer, and as he now writes pious books, so hethen composed dances. [Footnote: Granger's "Biographical History ofEngland, " vol. I, p. 137. Of Tytler, p. 354. ] That evening, after wehad danced till we were tired, we played cards. Just as I had won a fewguineas from the king, the lieutenant of the Tower came with the tidingsthat the execution was over, and gave us a description of the lastmoments of the great scholar. The king threw down his cards, and, turning an angry look on Anne Boleyn, said, in an agitated voice, 'Youare to blame for the death of this man!' Then he arose and withdrew tohis apartments, while no one was permitted to follow him, not even thequeen. [Footnote: Tytler, p. 354] You see, then, that Anne Boleyn hada claim on our gratitude, for the death of Thomas More delivered OldEngland from another great peril. Melanchthon and Bucer, and with themseveral of the greatest pulpit orators of Germany, had set out to cometo London, and, as delegates of the Germanic Protestant princes, tonominate the king as head of their alliance. But the terrible news ofthe execution of their friend frightened them back, and caused them toreturn when half-way here. [Footnote: Tytler, p. 357. Leti, vol. I, p. 180. Granger, vol. I, p. 119. ]

"Peace, then, to the ashes of unhappy Anne Boleyn! However, she wasavenged too, avenged on her successor and rival, for whose sake she wasmade to mount the scaffold--avenged on Jane Seymour. "

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

"He mourned!" exclaimed Lord Douglas, contemptuously. "He has mournedfor all his wives. Even for Anne Boleyn he put on mourning, and in hiswhite mourning apparel, the day after Anne's execution, he led JaneSeymour to the marriage altar! This outward mourning, what does itsignify? Anne Boleyn also mourned for Catharine of Aragon, whom she hadpushed from the throne. For eight weeks she was seen in yellow mourningon account of Henry's first wife; but Anne Boleyn was a shrewd woman, and she knew very well that the yellow mourning dress was exceedinglybecoming to her. "

"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 newmarriage. "

Earl Douglas laughed. "But he cheered himself during these two yearsof widowhood with a very beautiful mistress, the French Marchionessde Montreuil, and he would have married her had not the prudent beautypreferred returning to France, because she found it altogether toodangerous to become Henry's consort. For it is not to be denied, abaleful star hovers over Henry's queens, and none of them has descendedfrom the throne in a natural way. "

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

"Well, yes, in childbed. And yet by no natural death, for she could havebeen saved. But Henry did not wish to save her. His love had alreadygrown cool, and when the physicians asked him whether they should savethe mother or the child, he replied, 'Save the child, and let the motherdie. I can get wives enough. ' [Footnote: Burnet. ] Ah, my daughter, Ihope 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, somethingnew, something altogether extraordinary happened to the king. He fellin love with a picture, and because, in his proud self-conceit, he wasconvinced that the fine picture which Holbein had made of him, was notat all flattered, but entirely true to nature, it did not occur to himthat Holbein's likeness of the Princess Anne of Cleves might be somewhatflattered, and not altogether faithful. So the king fell in love witha picture, and sent ambassadors to Germany to bring the original ofthe portrait to England as his bride. He himself went to meet her atRochester, where she was to land. Ah, my child, I have witnessed manyqueer and droll things in my eventful life, but the scene at Rochester, however, is among my most spicy recollections. The king was asenthusiastic as a poet, and deep in love as a youth of twenty, and sobegan our romantic wedding-trip, on which Henry disguised himself andtook part in it, assuming the name of my cousin. As the king's master ofhorse, I was honored with the commission of carrying to the young queenthe greeting of her ardent husband, and begging her to receive theknight, who would deliver to her a present from the king. She granted myrequest 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 tohave witnessed that scene! It is the only farcical passage in the bloodytragedy of Henry's married life. You should have seen with what hastyimpatience the king rushed in, then suddenly, at the sight of her, staggered back and stared at the princess. Slowly retiring, he silentlythrust into my hand the rich present that he had brought, while at thesame time he threw a look of flaming wrath on Lord Cromwell, who hadbrought him the portrait of the princess and won him to this marriage. The romantic, ardent lover vanished with this look at his beloved. Heapproached the princess again--this time not as a cavalier, but, withharsh and hasty words, he told her he was the king himself. He bade herwelcome in a few words, and gave her a cold, formal embrace. He thenhastily took my hand and drew me out of the room, beckoning the restto follow him. And when at length we were out of the atmosphere of thispoor ugly princess, and far enough away from her, the king, withangry countenance, said to Cromwell: 'Call you that a beauty? She is aFlanders mare, but no princess. ' [Footnote: Burnet, p. 174. Tytler, p. 417. ] Anne's ugliness was surely given her of God, that by it, theChurch, in which alone is salvation, might be delivered from the greatdanger which threatened it. For had Anne of Cleves, the sister, niece, granddaughter and aunt of all the Protestant princes of Germany, beenbeautiful, incalculable danger would have threatened our church. Theking could not overcome his repugnance, and again his conscience, whichalways appeared to be most tender and scrupulous, when it was farthestfrom it and most regardless, must come to his aid. 

"The king declared that he had been only in appearance, not in hisinnermost conscience, disposed to this marriage, from which he nowshrank back, because it would be, properly speaking, nothing more thanperfidy, perjury, and bigamy. For Anne's father had once betrothed herto the son of the Duke of Lorraine, and had solemnly pledged him hisword to give her as a wife to the young duke as soon as she was of age;rings had been exchanged and the marriage contract already drawn up. Anne of Cleves, therefore, was virtually already married, and Henry, with his tender conscience, could not make one already married his wife. [Footnote: Burnet. ] He made her, therefore, his sister, and gave herthe palace at Richmond for a residence, in case she wished to remainin England. She accepted it; her blood, which crept coldly and quietlythrough her veins, did not rise at the thought of being despised andrepudiated. She accepted it, and remained in England. 

"She was rejected because she was ugly; and now the king selectedCatharine Howard for his fifth consort, because she was pretty. Of thismarriage I know but little to tell you, for, at that time, I had alreadygone to Dublin as minister, whither you soon followed me. Catharine wasvery beautiful, and the king's heart, now growing old, once more flamedhigh with youthful love. He loved her more warmly than any other ofhis wives. He was so happy in her that, kneeling down publicly in thechurch, with a loud voice he thanked God for the happiness which hisbeautiful young queen afforded him. But this did not last long. Evenwhile the king was extolling it, his happiness had reached its highestpoint, and the next day he was dashed down into the abyss. I speakwithout poetical exaggeration, my child. The day before, he thanked Godfor his happiness, and the next morning Catharine Howard wasalready imprisoned and accused, as an unfaithful wife, a shamelessstrumpet. [Footnote: Tytler, p. 432. ] More than seven lovers had precededher royal spouse, and some of them had accompanied her even on theprogress through Yorkshire, which she made with the king her husband. This time it was no pretence, for he had not yet had time to fall inlove with another woman, and Catharine well knew how to enchain him andever to kindle new flames within him. But just because he loved her, hecould not forgive her for having deceived him. In love there is so muchcruelty and hatred; and Henry, who but yesterday lay at her feet, burnedto-day with rage and jealousy, as yesterday with love and rapture. Inhis rage, however, he still loved her, and when he held in his handindubitable proof of her guilt, he wept like a child. But since he couldno longer be her lover, he would be her hangman; since she had spottedthe crimson of his royal mantle, he would dye it afresh with her owncrimson blood. And he did so. Catharine Howard was forced to lay herbeautiful head upon the block, as Anne Boleyn had done before her; andAnne's death was now once more avenged. Lady Rochfort had been AnneBoleyn's accuser, and her testimony had brought that queen to thescaffold; but now she was convicted of being Catharine Howard'sassistant 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 searchedtwo years for a pure, uncontaminated virgin, who might become his queenwithout danger of the scaffold. But he found none; so he took then LordNeville's widow, Catharine Parr. But you know, my child, thatCatharine is an unlucky name for Henry's queens. The first Catharine herepudiated, the second he beheaded. What will he do with the third?"

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

"Catharine does not love the king?" inquired Lord Douglas, in breathlesssuspense. "She loves another, then!"

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

"Then we must write a name there, and this name must drive her to thescaffold, or into banishment, " said her father impetuously. "It is yourbusiness, my child, to take a steel graver, and in some way write a namein Catharine's heart so deep and indelibly, that the king may some dayread it there. "

CHAPTER VIII. FATHER AND DAUGHTER. 

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

A cunning smile played for a moment over the countenance of the earl ashe observed her, but it quickly disappeared, and now deep folds of caregathered on his brow. As he saw that Lady Jane was plunging deeper anddeeper into reverie, he at length laid his hand on her shoulder andhastily 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 candraw from it. "

Lord Douglas shook his head, and smiled incredulously. At length he saidsolemnly: "Take care, Jane, take care that your heart does not deceiveyour 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. LordDouglas noticed it, and a passionate word was already on his lips. Buthe kept it back. As a prudent diplomat, he knew that it is often morepolitic to destroy a thing by ignoring it, than to enter into an opencontest with it. The feelings are like the dragons' teeth of Theseus. If you contend with them, they always grow again anew, and with renewedenergy, out of the soil. Lord Douglas, therefore, was very careful notto notice his daughter's confusion. "Pardon me, my daughter, if, in myzeal and my tender care for you, I go too far. I know that your dear andbeautiful head is cool enough to wear a crown. I know that in your heartdwell only ambition and religion. Let us, then, further consider what wehave to do in order to attain our end. 

"We have spoken of Henry as a husband, of Henry as a man; and I hopeyou have drawn some useful lessons from the fate of his wives. You havelearned that it is necessary to possess all the good and all the badqualities of woman in order to control this stiff-necked and tyrannical, this lustful and bigoted, this vain and sensual man, whom the wrath ofGod has made King of England. You must, before all things, be perfectmaster of the difficult art of coquetry. You must become a femaleProteus--today a Messalina, to-morrow a nun; to-day one of the_literati_, to-morrow a playful child; you must ever seek to surprisethe king, to keep him on the stretch, to enliven him. You must nevergive way to the dangerous feeling of security, for in fact King Henry'swife is never safe. The axe always hangs over her head, and you mustever consider your husband as only a fickle lover, whom you must everyday 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, manydifficulties are to be overcome, which may indeed perhaps beinsuperable. "

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

"In the first place, then, Jane, I will tell you a secret. The king, whohas constituted himself high-priest of his Church--whom the pope oncecalled 'the Knight of the Truth and the Faith'--the king has at thebottom of his heart no religion. He is a wavering reed, which the windturns this way to-day, and that way to-morrow. He knows not his ownwill, and, coquetting with both parties, to-day he is a heretic, inorder to exhibit himself as a strong, unprejudiced, enlightened man;to-morrow a Catholic, in order to show himself an obedient and humbleservant of God, who seeks and finds his happiness only in love andpiety. But for both confessions of faith he possesses at hearta profound indifference; and had the pope at that time placed nodifficulties in his way, had he consented to his divorce from Catharine, Henry would have always remained a very good and active servant ofthe Catholic Church. But they were imprudent enough to irritate him bycontradiction; they stimulated his vanity and pride to resistance; andso Henry became a church reformer, not from conviction, but out of purelove of opposition. And that, my child, you must never forget, for, bymeans of this lever, you may very well convert him again to a devout, dutiful, and obedient servant of our holy Church. He has renounced thepope, and usurped the supremacy of the Church, but he cannot summon upcourage to carry out his work and throw himself wholly into the armsof the Reformation. However much he has opposed the person of the pope, still he has always remained devoted to the Church, although perhaps hedoes not know it himself. He is no Catholic, and he hears mass; he hasbroken up the monasteries, and yet forbids priests to marry; he has theLord's supper administered under both kinds, and believes in the realtransubstantiation of the wine into the Redeemer's holy blood. Hedestroys the convents, and yet commands that vows of chastity, spoken byman or woman, must be faithfully kept; and lastly, auricular confessionis still a necessary constituent of his Church. And these he calls hissix articles, [Footnote: Burnet, vol. I, p. 259. Tytler, p. 402. Mioti, vol. I, p. 134. ] and the foundation of his English Church. Poor, short-sighted and vain man! He knows not that he has done all this, onlybecause he wanted to be the pope himself, and he is nothing more than ananti-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, with looks of burning rage, "theanathema has struck him and laid a curse upon his head, and given him upto 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 hasdeclared his crown forfeited, and promised it to him who will vanquishhim by force of arms. Therefore, the pope has forbidden any of hissubjects to obey him, and respect and recognize him as king. "

"And yet he remains King of England, and his subjects still obey him inslavish submission, " exclaimed Earl Douglas, shrugging his shoulders. "It is very unwise to go so far in threats, for one should neverthreaten with punishment which he is not likewise able to reallyexecute. This Romish interdict has rather been an advantage to theking, than done him harm, for it has forced the king into haughtieropposition, and proved to his subjects that a man may royally be underan interdict, and yet in prosperity and the full enjoyment of life. "

"The pope's excommunication has not hurt the king at all; his thronehas not felt the slightest jar from it, but the apostasy of the king hasdeprived the Holy See at Rome of a very perceptible support; thereforewe must bring the faithless king back to the holy Church, for she needshim. And this, my daughter, is the work that God and the will of Hisholy representative have placed in your hands. A noble, glorious, and atthe same time profitable work, for it makes you a queen! But I repeat, be cautious, never irritate the king by contradiction. Without theirknowing it, we must lead the wavering where salvation awaits them. For, as we have said, he is a waverer; and in the haughty pride of hisroyalty, 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 neitherCatholic nor Protestant, but Ms 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 hisimpartiality, he is an equally terrible persecutor of both parties. Sothat it has come to pass that we must say, 'In England, Catholics arehanged, and those not stich are burned. ' [Footnote: Leti, vol. I, p. 144. F Tytler, p. 38. ] It gives the king pleasure to hold with steadyand cruel hand the balance between the two parties, and on the same daythat he has a papist incarcerated, because he has disputed the king'ssupremacy, he has one of the reformed put upon the rack, because he hasdenied the real transubstantiation of the wine, or perhaps has disputedconcerning the necessity of auricular confession. Indeed, during thelast session of Parliament, five men were hanged because they disputedthe supremacy, and five others burned because they professedthe reformed views! And this evening, Jane--this, the king'swedding-night--by the special order of the king, who wanted to show hisimpartiality as head of the church, Catholics and Protestants have beencoupled together like dogs, and hurried to the stake, the Catholicsbeing condemned (as traitors, and the others as heretics!)

"Oh, " said Jane, shuddering and turning pale, "I will not be Queen ofEngland. I have a horror of this cruel, savage king, whose heart iswholly without compassion or love. "

Her father laughed. "Do you not then know, child, how you can make thehyena gentle, and the tiger tame? You throw them again and again a freshprey, which they may devour, and since they love blood so dearly, youconstantly give them blood to drink, so that they may never thirst forit. The king's only steady and unchanging peculiarity is his cruelty anddelight 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 areso many men and women at his court, and when he is precisely in abloodthirsty 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 thosewhom he called his most confidential friends; he has sent the noblestmen of his kingdom to the scaffold. 

"Thomas More knew him very well, and in a few striking words he summedup the whole of the king's character. Ah, it seems to me that I see nowthe quiet and gentle face of this wise man, as I saw him standing inyonder bay-window, and near him the king, his arms around the neck ofHigh-Chancellor More, and listening to his discourse with a kind ofreverential devotion. And when the king had gone, I walked up to ThomasMore and congratulated him on the high and world-renowned favor in whichhe stood with the king. 'The king really loves you, ' said I. '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 fora valuable diamond, a beautiful woman, or a hand's breadth of landin France. ' [Footnote: Leti, vol. I, p 194. ] He was right, and for abeautiful woman, the head of this sage had to fall, of whom the mostChristian emperor and king, Charles V. , said: 'Had I been the masterof such a servant, of whose ability and greatness we have had so muchexperience for many years; had I possessed an adviser so wise andearnest as Thomas More was, I would rather have lost the best city of myrealm, than so worthy a servant and counsellor. ' [Footnote: Tytler, p. 354. ]

"No, Jane, be that your first and most sacred rule, never to trustthe king, and never reckon on the duration of his affection and themanifestations of his favor. For, in the perfidy of his heart, it oftenpleases him to load with tokens of his favor those whose destruction hehas already resolved upon, to adorn and decorate with orders and jewelsto-day those whom to-morrow he is going to put to death. It flatters hisself-complacency, like the lion, to play a little with the puppy heis about to devour. Thus did he with Cromwell, for many years hiscounsellor and friend, who had committed no other crime than that ofhaving first exhibited to the king the portrait of the ugly Anne ofCleves, whom Holbein had turned into a beauty. But the king took goodcare not to be angry with Cromwell, or to reproach him for it. Muchmore--in recognition of his great services, he raised him to the earldomof Essex, decorated him with the Order of the Garter and appointed himlord chamberlain; and then, when Cromwell felt perfectly secure andproudly basked in the sunshine of royal favor, then all at once the kinghad him arrested and dragged to the tower, in order to accuse him ofhigh treason. [Footnote: Ibid, p. 423. ] And so Cromwell was executed, because Anne of Cleves did not please the king, and because Hans Holbeinhad flattered her picture. 

"But now we have had enough of the past, Jane. Now let us speak of thepresent and of the future, my daughter. Let us now first of all devisethe means to overthrow this woman who stands in our way. When she isonce overthrown, it will not be very difficult for us to put you in herplace. For you are now here, near the king. The great mistake in ourearlier efforts was, that we were not present and could work onlythrough go-betweens and confidants. The king did not see you, and sincethe unlucky affair with Anne of Cleves he mistrusts likenesses; I verywell knew that, for I, my child, confide in no one, not even in the mostfaithful and noblest friends. I rely upon nobody but ourselves. Had webeen here, you would now be Queen of England instead of CatharineParr. But, to our misfortune, I was still the favorite of the Regentof Scotland, and as such, I could not venture to approach Henry. It wasnecessary that I should fall into disgrace there, in order to be againsure of the king's favor here. 

"So I fell into disgrace and fled with you hither. Now, then, herewe are, and let the fight begin. And you have to-day already taken animportant step toward our end. You have attracted the notice of theking, and established yourself still more securely in the favor ofCatharine. I confess, Jane, I am charmed with your prudent conduct. You have this day won the hearts of all parties, and it was wonderfullyshrewd in you to come to the aid of the Earl of Surrey, as you at thesame 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 theHoward family is the most powerful and greatest at court, and Henry, Earl of Surrey, is one of its noblest representatives. Therefore we havenow already a powerful party at court, which has in view only thehigh and holy aim of securing a victory for the holy Church, and whichquietly and silently works only for this--to again reconcile the kingto the pope. Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, like his father, the Duke ofNorfolk, is a good Catholic, as his niece Catharine Howard was; onlyshe, besides God and the Church, was a little too fond of the images ofGod--fine-looking men. It was this that gave the victory to the otherparty, and forced the Catholic to succumb to the heretical party atcourt. Yes, for the moment, Cranmer with Catharine has got the better ofus, but soon Gardiner with Jane Douglas will overcome the heretics, andsend them to the scaffold. That is our plan, and, God permitting, wewill 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 aclear glance. She is, moreover, guileless in her thoughts, and recoilswith true maidenly timidity from every sin. "

"We must cure her of this timidity, and that is your task, Jane. Youmust despoil her of these strict notions about virtue. With flatteringvoice you must ensnare her heart, and entice it to sin. "

"Oh, that is an infernal plot!" said Lady Jane, turning pale. "That, my father, would be a crime, for that would be not only destroying herearthly happiness, but also imperilling her soul. I must entice her to acrime; that is your dishonorable demand! But I will not obey you! It istrue, I hate her, for she stands in the way of my ambition. It is trueI 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 poisonby which she shall fall. Let her seek the poison for herself; I will nothold back her hand; I will not warn her. Let her seek the ways of sinherself: 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, andwhen she has committed a crime, then I will betray her, and deliver herup to her judges. That is what I can and will do. I will be the demon todrive her from paradise in God's name, but not the serpent to entice herin the devil's name to sin. "

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

A cry of terror burst from Lady Jane. She, who never had seen her fatherbut 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. "Youdare 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 arepermitted to have no other will than that of their masters! Have youforgotten the sublime vow which you made to our master, Ignatius Loyola?Answer me, unfaithful and disobedient daughter of the Church! Repeat tome the oath which you took when he received you into the holy Society ofthe Disciples 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 herfather, whose erect, proud, and wrathful 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 swornto be a blind tool in the hands of my masters, and to do only what theycommand and enjoin. I have vowed to serve the holy Church, in whichalone is salvation, in every way and with all the means at my command;and I will despise none of these means, consider none trifling, disdainnone, 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 folding his hands. "And you know what awaits you, if you violate your oath?"

"Earthly disgrace and eternal destruction await me. The curse of all mybrethren and sisters awaits me--eternal damnation and punishment. Withthousands of torments and tortures of the rack, will the Holy Fathersput me to death; and as they kill my body and throw it as food tothe beasts of prey, they will curse my soul and deliver it over topurgatory. "

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

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

"Then you will be a queen on earth and a queen in heaven. 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 Societyof Jesus, in England, a master and general, whom all the brethren andsisters must serve and submit to, to whom they owe blind obedience andservice without questioning?"

"I know it. "

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

"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 hisdoublet. 

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 master also. And you willobey me, will you not?"

"I will obey!" said she, almost inaudibly, as she kissed the hand withthe 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 whichmust 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 theinstrument of destruction. You will so manage the queen that she willlove Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey. "

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

Her father observed her with penetrating, angry looks. "What means thisoutcry? Why does 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 firsttime, " said he, "that even a man already married has become dangerousto a woman's heart, and often the very impossibility of possession addsfuel to the flames of love. Woman's heart is ever so full of selfishnessand contradiction. "

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

"Then you no longer refuse?" asked he, at length. "You will inspire theyoung 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, youwill prevail. For, as you said, the queen's heart is still free; it is, then, like a fruitful soil, which is only waiting for some one to sowthe seed in it, to bring forth flowers and fruit. Catharine Parr doesnot love the king; you will, then, teach her to love Henry Howard. "

"Yet, my father, " said Lady Jane, with a sarcastic smile, "to bringabout this result, one must, before all things, be acquainted with amagic spell, through the might of which the earl will first glow withlove for Catharine. For the queen has a proud soul, and she will neverso forget her dignity as to love a man who is not inflamed with anardent passion for her. But the earl has not only a bride, but, as it issaid, a mistress also. "

"Ah! you consider it, then, perfectly unworthy of a woman to love a manwho does not adore her?" asked the earl, in a significant tone. "I amrejoiced to hear this from my daughter, and thus to be certain that shewill not fall in love with the Earl of Surrey, who is everywhere elsecalled 'the lady-killer. ' And if you have informed yourself in sosurprising a manner as to the earl's private relations, you have doneso, without doubt, only because your sagacious and subtle head hasalready guessed what commission I would give you with respect to theearl. Besides, my daughter, you are in error: and if a certain high, but not on that account the less very unfortunate lady, should happento really love the Earl of Surrey, her lot will, perhaps, be the commonone--to practise resignation. "

An expression of joyful surprise passed over the countenance of LadyJane, while her father thus spoke; but it was forced to instantly giveway to a deathly paleness, as the earl added: "Henry Howard is destinedfor 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 issalvation, that she will forget all considerations and all dangers. "

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

"You call the earl a faithful servant of our Church, " said she, "and yetyou would implicate him also in your dangerous plot? You have not, then, my father, considered that it is just as pernicious to love the queen asto be loved by her? And, without doubt, if love for the Earl of Surreybring the queen to the scaffold, the head of the earl will fall at thesame 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 holyreligion, the danger which, thereby, it may be, threatens one of ournumber, must not frighten us back. Holy sacrifices must be alwaysoffered to a holy cause. Well and good, then, let the earl's head fall, provided the only saving Church gains new vigor from this blood ofmartyrs. But see, Jane, the morning already begins to dawn, and I musthasten to leave you, lest these courtiers, ever given to slandering, mayin some way or other take the father for a lover, and cast suspicion onthe immaculate virtue of my Jane. Farewell, then, my daughter! We both, now, know our rôles, and will take care to play them with success. Youare 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 andmerry jest. That is all. Good-morning, then, Jane, and good-night. Foryou must sleep, my child, so that your cheeks may remain fresh and youreyes bright. The king hates pining pale-faces. Sleep, then, future Queenof England!"

He gently kissed her forehead, and left the room with lingering step. 

Lady Jane stood and listened to the sound of his footsteps graduallydying 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, andI--I love him!"

CHAPTER IX. LENDEMAIN. 

The great levée was over. Sitting beside the king on the throne, Catharine had received the congratulations of her court; and the king'ssmiling look, and the tender words which, in undertone, he now andthen addressed to the queen, had manifested to the prudent and expertcourtiers that the king was to-day just as much enamored of his youngconsort as he had been yesterday of his bride. Therefore, every oneexerted himself to please the queen, and to catch every look, everysmile, which she let fall, like sunbeams, here and there, in order tosee for whom they were intended, so that they might, perchance, by thismeans, divine who were to be the future favorites of the queen, and bethe first to become intimate with them. 

But the young queen directed her looks to no one in particular. Shewas friendly and smiling, yet one felt that this friendliness wasconstrained, this smile full of sadness. The king alone did not noticeit. He was cheerful and happy, and it seemed to him, therefore, thatnobody at his court could dare sigh when he, the king, was satisfied. 

After the grand presentation, at which all the great and noble of therealm had passed in formal procession before the royal pair, the kinghad, according to the court etiquette of the time, given his hand to hisconsort, led her down from the throne and conducted her to the middleof the hall, in order to present to her the personages in waiting at hercourt. 

But this walk from the throne to the centre of the hall had greatlyfatigued the king; this promenade of thirty steps was for him a veryunusual and troublesome performance, and the king longed to change tosomething else more agreeable. So he beckoned to the chief master ofceremonies, and bade him open the door leading into the dining-room. Then he ordered his "house equipage" to be brought up, and, seatinghimself in it with the utmost stateliness, he had the sedan kept at thequeen's side, waiting impatiently till the presentation should at lastconclude, and Catharine accompany him to lunch. 

The announcements of the maids of honor and female attendants had beenalready made, and now came the gentlemen's turn. 

The chief master of ceremonies read from his list the names of thosecavaliers who were, henceforth, to be in waiting near the queen, andwhich names the king had written down with his own hand. And at each newappointment a slight expression of pleased astonishment flitted acrossthe faces of the assembled courtiers, for it was always one of theyoungest, handsomest, and most amiable lords whom the master ofceremonies had to name. 

Perhaps the king proposed to play a cruel game at hazard, in surroundinghis consort with the young men of his court; he wished to plunge herinto the midst of danger, either to let her perish there, or, by heravoiding danger, to be able to place the unimpeachable virtue of hisyoung wife in the clearest light. 

The list had begun with the less important offices, and, ever ascendinghigher, they now came to positions the highest and of greatestconsequence. 

Still the queen's master of horse and the chamberlain had not beennamed, and these were without doubt the most important charges at thequeen's court. For one or the other of these officers was always verynear the queen. When she was in the palace, the lord of the chamberhad to remain in the anteroom, and no one could approach the queen butthrough his mediation. To him the queen had to give her orders withregard to the schemes and pleasures of the day. He was to contrivenew diversions and amusements. He had the right of joining the queen'snarrow evening circle, and to stand behind the queen's chair when theroyal pair, at times, desired to sup without ceremony. 

This place of chief chamberlain was, therefore, a very importantone; for since it confined him a large part of the day in the queen'spresence, it was scarcely avoidable that the lord chamberlain shouldbecome either the confidential and attentive friend, or the malevolentand lurking enemy of the queen!

But the place of master of horse was of no less consequence. For as soonas the queen left the palace, whether on foot or in a carriage, whetherto 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 chamberlain, yet, however, he was never alone with her. The attending maids of honorwere always present and prevented there being any têtes-à-têtes orintimacy between the queen and her chamberlain. 

But with the master of horse it was different--since many opportunitiespresented themselves, when he could approach the queen unnoticed, or atleast speak to her without being overheard. He had to offer her his handto assist her in entering her carriage; he could ride near the door ofher coach; he accompanied her on water excursions and pleasure rides, and these last were so much the more important because they affordedhim, to a certain extent, opportunity for a tête-à-tête with the queen. For only the master of horse was permitted to ride at her side; he evenhad precedence of the ladies of the suite, so as to be able to give thequeen immediate assistance in case of any accident, or the stumbling ofher horse. Therefore, no one of the suite could perceive what the queensaid 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 alwaysnear her; while, thanks to his daily increasing corpulency, he was notexactly in a condition to leave the palace otherwise than in a carriage. 

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

Not the court only, but also the king himself, was watching forthese two names. For he wished to see the effect of them, and, by thedifferent expression of faces, estimate the number of the friends ofthese two nominees. The young queen alone exhibited the same unconcernedaffability; her heart only beat with uniform calmness, for she did notonce suspect the importance of the moment. 

Even the voice of the master of ceremonies trembled slightly, as henow read, "To the place of high chamberlain to the queen, his majestyappoints my Lord Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey. "

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

"He has a great many friends, " muttered the king. "He is dangerous, then!" An angry look darted from his eyes upon the young earl, who wasnow approaching the queen, to bend his knee before her and to press tohis lips the proffered hand. 

Behind the queen stood Lady Jane, and as she beheld thus close beforeher the young man, so handsome, so long yearned for, and so secretlyadored; and as she thought of her oath, she felt a violent pang, ragingjealousy, killing hatred toward the young queen, who had, it is true, without suspecting it, robbed her of the loved one, and condemned her tothe terrible torture of pandering to her. 

The chief master of ceremonies now read in a loud solemn voice, "To theplace 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 wholeattention to his courtiers, and sought to read in their appearance theimpression made by this nomination. 

Had he observed his consort, he would have seen that an expressionof delighted surprise flitted across Catharine's countenance, and acharming smile played round her lips. 

But the king, as we have said, thought only of his court; he saw onlythat the number of those who rejoiced at Seymour's appointment did notcome up to that of those who received Surrey's nomination with so muchapplause. 

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. "Mylord, " 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. Mylord, take the fleetest of your coursers, and hasten to Castle Holt, where the Princess Elizabeth is staying. Carry her this letter from herroyal father, and she will follow you hither. Tell her that I long toembrace in her a friend and sister, and that I pray her to pardon me ifI cannot give up to her exclusively the heart of her king and father, but that I also must still keep a place in the same for myself. Hastento Castle Holt, my lord, and bring us Princess Elizabeth. "

CHAPTER X. THE KING'S FOOL. 

Two years had passed away since the king's marriage, and still CatharineParr had always kept in favor with her husband; still her enemies werefoiled in their attempts to ruin her, and raise the seventh queen to thethrone. 

Catharine had ever been cautious, ever discreet. She had alwayspreserved a cold heart and a cool head. Each morning she had said toherself that this day might be her last; that some incautious word, some inconsiderate act, might deprive 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 thehighest pitch of rage, rage which, each time, fell with fatal stroke onhim who aroused it. 

A knowledge and consciousness of this had made the queen cautious. Shedid not wish to die yet. She still loved life so much. She loved itbecause it had as yet afforded her so little delight. She loved itbecause she had so much happiness, so much rapture and enjoyment yet tohope from it. She did not wish to die yet, for she was ever waiting forthat life of which she had a foretaste only in her dreams, and which herpalpitating and swelling heart told her was ready to awake in her, and, with its sunny, brilliant eyes, arouse her from the winter sleep of herexistence. 

It was a bright and beautiful spring day. Catharine wanted to availherself of it, to take a ride and forget for one brief hour that she wasa queen. She wanted to enjoy the woods, the sweet May breeze, the songof birds, the green meadows, and to inhale in full draughts the pureair. 

She wanted to ride. Nobody suspected how much secret delight and hiddenrapture lay in these words. No one suspected that for months she hadbeen looking forward with pleasure to this ride, and scarcely daredto wish for it, just because it would be the fulfilment of her ardentwishes. 

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

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

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

"No, queen, " said John Heywood, seriously, "I have made no bold hit, nor do I bring a message from the king. I bring nothing but myself. Ah, queen, I see you want to laugh, but I pray you forget for a moment thatJohn Heywood is the king's fool, and that it does not become him to weara 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 forme to wear this fool's cap, for poets are all fools, and it were betterfor them to be hung on the nearest tree instead of being permitted torun about in their crazy enthusiasm, and babble things on accountof which people of sense despise and ridicule them. I am a poet, andtherefore, queen, I have put on this fool's dress, which places me underthe king's protection, and allows me to say to him all sorts of thingswhich nobody else has the courage to speak out. But to-day, queen, Icome to you neither as a fool nor as a poet, but I come to you because Iwish to cling to your knees and kiss your feet. I come because I wishto tell you that you have made John Heywood forever your slave. He willfrom this time forth lie like a dog before your threshold and guard youfrom every enemy and every evil which may press upon you. Night and dayhe will be ready for your service, and know neither repose nor rest, ifit is necessary to fulfil your command or your wish. "

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

"But what have I done to inspire you with such a feeling ofthankfulness?" asked Catharine with astonishment. "How have I deservedthat 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 thestake! They had condemned him--that handsome noble youth--condemned him, because he had spoken respectfully of Thomas More; because he saidthis great and noble man did right to die, rather than be false to hisconvictions. Ah, nowadays, it requires such a trifle to condemn a man todeath! a couple of thoughtless words are sufficient! And this miserable, lick-spittle Parliament, in its dastardliness and worthlessness, alwayscondemns and sentences, because it knows that the king is always thirstyfor blood, and always wants the fires of the stake to keep him warm. Sothey 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 onthis regal throne reeking with blood; you who daily risk your lifeand your crown to save the life of some one of those unfortunates whomfanaticism and thirst for blood have sentenced, and to procure theirpardon, you have save my son 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 intercede for him?"

"Had I done so, he would have been irretrievably lost! For you wellknow the king is so proud of his impartiality and his virtue! Oh, hadhe known that Thomas is my son he would have condemned him to death, toshow the people that Henry the Eighth everywhere strikes the guiltyand punishes the sinner, whatever name he may bear, and whoever mayintercede for him. Ah, even your supplication would not have softenedhim, for the high-priest of the English Church could never have pardonedthis young man for not being the legitimate son of his father, for nothaving the right to bear his name, because his mother was the spouse ofanother man whom Thomas must call father. "

"Poor Heywood! Yes, now I understand. The king would, indeed, never haveforgiven this; and had he known it, your son would have inevitably beencondemned to the stake. "

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

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

"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. "Whena storm comes, it is but a refreshing of nature, and I have always seenthat after a storm the sun shines again. "

"You are a brave soul!" swirl John Heywood, sadly. 

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

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

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

"No, that is not all!" said John Heywood, energetically. "For slanderersare like earth-worms. You cut them in pieces, but instead of therebykilling 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 Iever 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 soilwholly unfruitful, and that not a single poor little flower growsthere?"

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

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

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

"If you know my enemies, name them to me!" said Catharine, 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 nameyour friends to you. "

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

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

"Oh, name them, name them to me!" exclaimed Catharine, all of a tremblewith joyful expectation. 

"I name first, Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury. He is your true andstaunch friend, on whom you can build. He loves you as queen, andhe prizes you as the associate whom God has sent him to bring tocompletion, here at the court of this most Christian and bloody king, the holy work of the Reformation, and to cause the light of knowledgeto illuminate this night of superstition and priestly domination. Build strongly on Cranmer, for he is your surest and most invariablesupporter, and should he sink, your fall would inevitably follow. Therefore, not only rely on him, but also protect him, and look upon himas your brother; for what you do for him, you do for yourself. "

"Yes, you are right, " said Catharine, thoughtfully. "Cranmer is a nobleand staunch friend; and often enough already he has protected me, in theking's presence, against those little pin-prickings of my enemies, whichdo 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 asthe second of your friends. If Cranmer is your staff, I will be yourdog; and, believe me, so long as you have such a staff and so faithfula dog, you are safe. Cranmer will warn you of every stone that lies inyour way, and I will bite and drive off the enemies, who, hidden behindthe thicket, lurk in the way to fall upon you from behind. "

"I thank you! Really, I thank you!" said Catharine, heartily. "Well, andwhat more?"

"More?" inquired Heywood with a sad smile. 

"Mention a few more of my friends. "

"Queen, it is a great deal, if one in a lifetime has found two friendsupon 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 surroundme and daily swear to me unchanging faithfulness and attachment. How!are all these unworthy the title of friends? Is even Lady Jane Douglasunworthy; she, whom I have called my friend these many long years, andwhom I trust as a sister? Tell me, John Heywood, you who, as it is said, know everything, and search out everything that takes place at court, tell me, is not Lady Jane Douglas my friend?"

John Heywood suddenly became serious and gloomy, and looked on theground, absorbed in reflection. Then he swept his large, bright eyes allaround the room, in a scrutinizing manner, as if he wished to convincehimself that no listener was really concealed there, and stepping closeup to the queen, he whispered: "Trust her not; she is a papist, andGardiner is her friend. "

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

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

Catharine shook her head with a smile. "You are too severe, JohnHeywood. It is possible that the religion which she secretly professeshas estranged her heart from me, but she would never be capable ofbetraying me, or of leaguing herself with my foes. No, John, you aremistaken. It would be a crime to believe thus. My God, what a wickedand wretched world it must be in which we could not trust even our mostfaithful 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. Forme, it is such a jest, and therefore, queen, I have become the king'sfool, which at least gives me the right of spurting out upon thecrawling brood all the venom of the contempt I feel for mankind, and ofspeaking the truth to those who have only lies, by dripping honey, everon their lips. The sages and poets are the real fools of our day, andsince I did not feel a vocation to be a king, or a priest, a hangman, ora lamb for sacrifice, I became a fool. "

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

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

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

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

John Heywood saw it and sighed deeply. Better than the queen herselfperhaps, 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 alittle. 

"I recollect, " said he, gently and mournfully--"yes, I recollect, youhave yet a third friend at this court. "

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

John Heywood looked into Catharine's glowing countenance with a strangeexpression, at once searching and mournful, and for a moment dropped hishead 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 steadilyin 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 uttereda low cry. 

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 sunshinein your face for a conflagration. "

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

"Your majesty, " said she solemnly, "everything is ready. You can beginyour ride when it pleases you. The Princess Elizabeth awaits you in theanteroom, and your master of horse already holds the stirrup of yoursteed. "

"And the lord chamberlain?" asked Catharine, blushing, "has he nomessage from the king to bring me?"

"Ay!" said the Earl of Surrey as he entered. "His majesty bids metell the queen that she may extend her ride as far as she wishes. Theglorious weather is well worth that the Queen of England should enjoyit, and enter into a contest with the sun. "

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

"Pardon me, your majesty, " said Lady Jane, stepping back. "I cannotto-day enjoy the privilege of accompanying your majesty. Lady AnneEttersville 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 Catharinecheerily, as with light, elastic step she passed through the hall to thecourtyard. 

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

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

Catharine had just mounted her palfrey; the noble animal, recognizinghis mistress, neighed loudly, and, giving a snort, reared up with hisnoble 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 iswith him as with me. This charming May air has made us both mettlesomeand happy. Away, then, my ladies and lords! our horses must be to-dayswift 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 Sudley. 

When the train had disappeared, father and daughter stepped back fromthe window, and looked at each other with strange, dark, and disdainfullooks. 

"Well, Jane?" said Earl Douglas, at length. "She is still queen, and theking becomes daily more unwieldy and ailing. It is time to give him aseventh queen. "

"Soon, my father, soon. "

"Loves the queen Henry Howard at last?"

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

"I ask, whether she loves him?"

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

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

"Well, now, my father, manage it so that the king may be heartily boredto-day, and then bring him to me. He will find the Duchess of Richmondwith 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!" saidJane, with glowing cheeks and flashing eyes. "She has been queen longenough, and I have bowed myself before her. Now she shall fall in thedust 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 themeadows, over which they had just ridden to reach the thicket of theforest, in whose trees resounded the melodious voices of blithe birds. Then they rode along the banks of a babbling forest stream, and spiedthe deer that came forth into the glade on the other side, as if theywanted, like the queen and her train, to listen to the song of the birdsand the murmuring of the fountains. Catharine felt a nameless, blissfulpleasure swell her bosom. She was to-day no more the queen, surroundedby perils and foes; no more the wife of an unloved, tyrannical husband;not the queen trammelled with the shackles of etiquette. She was a free, happy woman, who, in presageful, blissful trepidation, smiled atthe future, and said to each minute, "Stay, stay, for thou art sobeautiful!"

It was a sweet, dreamy happiness, the happiness of that hour. Withglad heart, Catharine would have given her crown for it, could she haveprolonged this hour to an eternity. 

He was at her side--he of whom John Heywood had said, that he was amongher most trustful and trusty friends. He was there; and even if she didnot dare to look at him often, often to speak to him, yet she felt hispresence, she perceived the glowing beams of his eyes, which rested onher with consuming fire. Nobody could observe them. For the court rodebehind them, and before them and around them was naught but Naturebreathing and smiling with joy, naught but heaven and God. 

She had forgotten however that she was not quite alone, and thatwhile Thomas Seymour rode on her left, on her right was PrincessElizabeth--that young girl of fourteen years--that child, who, however, under the fire of suffering and the storms of adversity, was earlyforced to precocious bloom, and whose heart, by the tears and experienceof her unhappy childhood, had acquired an early ripeness. Elizabeth, a child in years, had already all the strength and warmth of a woman'sfeelings. Elizabeth, the disowned and disinherited princess, hadinherited her father's pride and ambition; and when she looked on thequeen, and perceived that little crown wrought on her velvet cap indiamond embroidery, she felt in her bosom a sharp pang, and remembered, with feelings of bitter grief, that this crown was destined neverto adorn her head, since the king, by solemn act of Parliament, hadexcluded her from the succession to the throne. [Footnote: Tytler, p. 340] But for a few weeks this pain had been more gentle, and lessburning. Another feeling had silenced it. Elizabeth who was never to bequeen or sovereign--Elizabeth might be a wife at least. Since shewas denied a crown, they should at least allow her instead a wife'shappiness; they should not grudge her the privilege of twining in herhair a crown of myrtle. 

She had been early taught to ever have a clear consciousness of all herfeelings; nor had she now shrunk from reading the depths of her heartwith steady and sure eye. 

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

But the earl? Did he love her in return? Did he understand the child'sheart? Had he, beneath the childish face, already recognized thepassionate, proud woman? Had he guessed the secrets of this soul, atonce so maidenly and chaste, and yet so passionate and energetic?

Thomas Seymour never betrayed a secret, and what he had, it may be, readin the eyes of the princess, and what he had, perhaps, spoken to her inthe quiet shady walks of Hampton Court, or in the long, dark corridorsof Whitehall, was known to no one save those two. For Elizabeth had astrong, masculine soul; she needed no confidant to share her secrets;and Thomas Seymour had feared even, like the immortal hair-dresser ofKing Midas, to dig a hole and utter his secret therein; for he knew verywell that, if the reed grew up and repeated his words, he might, forthese words, lay his head on the block. 

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

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

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

The two women understood nothing of this. They were both too muchoccupied with their own thoughts; and while Catharine's eyes swept withbeaming look the landscape far and wide, the brow of the princess wasslightly clouded, and her sharp eye rested with a fixed and watchfulgaze on Thomas Seymour. 

She had noticed the impassioned look which he had now and then fastenedon the queen. The slight, scarcely perceptible tremor of his voice, whenhe spoke, had not escaped her. 

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

She was jealous, but not of the queen; much more, she dreamed not thatthe queen might share and return Seymour's love. It never came intoher mind to accuse the queen of an understanding with the earl. Shewas jealous only of the looks which he directed toward the queen; andbecause she was watching those looks, she could not at the same timeread the eyes of her young stepmother also; she could not see the gentleflames 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 thedeep 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 ofaccepting the love which he consecrated to her. 

But there, behind them, were the spying, all-observing, all-surmisingcourtiers; there was the Princess Elizabeth, who, had he ventured tospeak to the queen, would have conjectured from his manner the wordswhich she could not understand; for love sees so clearly, and jealousyhas such keen ears!

Catharine suspected nothing of the thoughts of her companions. She alonewas happy; she alone gave herself up with full soul to the enjoyment ofthe moment. She drew in with intense delight the pure air; she drank inthe odor of the meadow blossoms; she listened with thirsty ear to themurmuring song which the wind wafted to her from the boughs of thetrees. Her wishes extended not beyond the hour; she rested in the fullenjoyment of the presence of her beloved. He was there--what needed shemore to make her happy?

Her wishes extended not beyond this hour. She was only conscious howdelightful it was thus to be at her beloved's side, to breathe the sameair, to see the same sun, the same flowers on which his eyes rested, andon which their glances at least might meet in kisses which were deniedto their lips. 

But as they thus rode along, silent and meditative, each occupied withhis own thoughts, there came the assistance for which Thomas Seymour hadprayed, fluttering along in the shape of a fly. 

At first this fly sported and buzzed about the nose of the fiery, proud beast which the queen rode; and as no one noticed it, it wasnot disturbed by Hector's tossing of his mane, but crept securely andquietly to the top of the noble courser's head, pausing a little hereand there, and sinking his sting into the horse's flesh, so that hereared and began loudly to neigh. 

But Catharine was a bold and dexterous rider, and the proud spirit ofher horse only afforded her delight, and gave the master of horse anopportunity 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, nowpenetrated the horse's ear. The poor, tormented animal made a springforward. This spring, instead of freeing him from his enemy, made himpenetrate the ear still farther, and sink his sting still deeper intothe soft fleshy part of the same. 

Stung by the maddening pain, the horse cast off all control, and, heedless of bridle and scorning the bit, dashed forward in a furiousrun--forward over the meadow swift as an arrow, resistless as thelightning. 

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

"To the help of the queen!" repeated Princess Elizabeth, and shelikewise spurred her horse and hurried forward, accompanied by the wholesuite. 

But what is the speed of a horse ever so swift, but yet in his senses, compared with the raving madness of a crazy courser, that, despising allsubjection, and mocking at the bridle, dashes ahead, foaming with thesense of freedom and unrestraint, uncontrollable as the surge lashed bythe storm!

Already far behind them lay the meadows, far behind them the avenuesleading through the woods, and over brooks and ditches, over meadows andwastes, Hector was dashing on. 

The queen still sat firmly in the saddle; her cheeks were colorless; herlips trembled; but her eye was still bright and clear. She had not yetlost her presence of mind; she was perfectly conscious of her danger. The din of screaming, screeching voices, which she heard at first, hadlong since died away in silence behind her. An immense solitude, thedeep silence of the grave, was around her. 

Naught was heard save the panting and snorting of the horse; naught butthe crash and clatter of his hoofs. Suddenly, however, this soundseemed to find an echo. It was repeated over yonder. There was the samesnorting and panting; there was the same resounding trampling of hoofs. And now, oh, now, struck on Catharine's car the sound of a voice onlytoo well loved, and made her scream aloud with delight and desire. 

But this cry frightened anew the enraged animal. For a moment, exhaustedand panting, he had slackened in his mad race; now he sprang forwardwith renewed energy; now he flew on as if impelled by the wings of thewind. But ever nearer and nearer sounded the loved voice ever nearer thetramp of his horse. 

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

"Only a moment more! Only hold your arms firmly around the animal'sneck, 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 thathe sprang forward with a wild cry. 

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

"I hear his voice no more, " murmured Catharine. And at length overcomewith anxiety and the dizzy race, and worn out with her exertions, sheclosed her eyes; her senses appeared to be about leaving her. 

But at this moment, a firm hand seized with iron grasp the rein of herhorse, so that he bowed his head, shaking, trembling, and almost ashame, as the horse had found his lord and master. 

"Saved! I am saved!" faltered Catharine, and breathless, scarcely in hersenses, she leaned her head on Seymour's shoulder. 

He lifted her gently from the saddle, and placed her on the softmoss beneath an ancient oak. Then he tied the horses to a bough, andCatharine, trembling and faint, sank on her knees to rest after suchviolent exertion. 

CHAPTER XII. THE DECLARATION. 

Thomas Seymour returned to Catharine. She still lay there with closedeyes, 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 thatmoment that she was a queen. 

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

And had the whole court, had King Henry himself, come right then, ThomasSeymour would not have heeded it; it would not have affrighted him. Theblood had mounted to his head and overcome his reason. His heart, stillagitated and beating violently from his furious ride and his anxiety forCatharine, 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. Sheraised her eyes and gazed around with a perplexed look. 

"Where am I?" breathed she in a low tone. 

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

"Queen!" This word roused her from her stupor, and caused her to raiseherself half up. 

"But where is my court? Where is the Princess Elizabeth? Where are allthe eyes that heretofore watched me? Where are all the listeners andspies who accompany the queen?"

"They are far away from here, " said Seymour in a tone which betrayedhis secret delight. "They are far away from here, and need at least anhour's time to come up with us. An hour, queen! are you aware what thatis to me? An hour of freedom, after two years of imprisonment! An hourof happiness, after two years of daily torture, daily endurance of thetorments 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 nearher 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 atit. There are moments in which life is at its crowning point, and whenone heeds not the abyss that threatens close beneath. Such an hour isthe present. I am aware that this hour makes me guilty of high treasonand may send me to the block; but nevertheless I will not be silent. The fire which burns in my breast consumes me. I must at length give itvent. My heart, that for years has burned upon a funeral pyre, and whichis so strong that in the midst of its agonies it has still ever felta sensation of its blessedness--my heart must at length find death orfavor. 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 tospeak to her. Silence, then, earl, silence, and let us ride on. "

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

"No, I will not be silent, " said he. "I will not be silent until I havetold you all that rages and glows within me. The Queen of England mayeither condemn me or pardon me, but she shall know that to me she is notHenry the Eighth's wife, but only the most charming and graceful, thenoblest and loveliest woman in England. I will tell her that I neverrecollect she is my queen, or, if I do so, it is only to curse the king, who was presumptuous enough to set this brightly sparkling jewel in hisbloody crown. "

Catharine, almost horrified, laid her hand on Seymour's lips. "Silence, unhappy man, silence! Know you that it is your sentence of death whichyou 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, isperhaps more compassionate and merciful than the queen. Accuse me then, queen; go and tell your king that Thomas Seymour is a traitor; that hedares love the queen. The king will send me to the scaffold, but Ishall nevertheless deem myself happy, for I shall at least die by yourinstrumentality. Queen, if I cannot live for you, then beautiful it isto die for you!"

Catharine listened to him wholly stupefied, wholly intoxicated. Thiswas, for her, language wholly new and never heard before, at which herheart trembled in blissful awe, which rushed around her in enchantingmelodies and lulled her into a sweet stupefaction. Now she herselfeven forgot that she was queen, that she was the wife of Henry, thebloodthirsty and the jealous. She was conscious only of this, thatthe man whom she had so long loved, was now kneeling at her side. Withrapture she drank in his words, which struck upon her ear like exquisitemusic. 

Thomas Seymour continued. He told her all he had suffered. He told herhe 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 himstrength to live, and still longer endure these tortures, which were atthe same time so full of rapture. 

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

Catharine trembled and looked at him wellnigh astounded. He seemed soproud and imperative, she almost felt a fear for him, but it was thehappy fear of a loving, meek woman before a strong, commanding man. 

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

"No, queen, " said he, proudly, "I cannot command you to love me, but Ibid you tell me the truth. I bid you do this, for I am a man who has theright 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 toyou, I do not think that you abase yourself when you receive it. Forthe true love of a man is ever the holiest gift that he can present toa woman, and if a beggar dedicates it to a queen, she must feel herselfhonored by it. Oh, queen, I am a beggar. I lie at your feet and raisemy hands beseechingly to you; but I want not charity, I want not yourcompassion and pity, which may, perhaps, grant me an alms to lessen mymisery. No, I want you yourself. I require all or nothing. It will notsatisfy me that you forgive my boldness, and draw the veil ofsilence over my mad attempt. No, I wish you to speak, to pronounce mycondemnation or a benediction on me. Oh, I know you are generous andcompassionate, and even if you despise my love and will not returnit, yet, it may be, you will not betray me. You will spare me, andbe silent. But I repeat it, queen, I do not accept this offer of yourmagnanimity. You are to make me either a criminal or a god; for I am acriminal 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 meno choice but that of being either your murderess or a perjured andadulterous woman--a wife who forgets her plighted faith and her sacredduty, and defiles the crown which my husband has placed upon my headwith stains, which Henry will wash out with my own blood and with yoursalso. "

"Let it be so, then, " cried the earl, almost joyfully. "Let my headfall, no matter how or when, if you but love me; for then I shall stillbe immortal; for a 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 crueldisposition. The mere suspicion is enough to condemn me. Ah, if he knewwhat we have just now spoken here, he would condemn me, as he condemnedCatharine Howard, though I am not guilty as she was. Ah, I shudder atthe thought of the block; and you, Earl Seymour, you would bring me tothe scaffold, and yet you say you love me!"

Seymour sunk his head mournfully upon his breast and sighed deeply. "Youhave pronounced my sentence, queen, and though you are too noble to tellme the truth, yet I have guessed it. No, you do not love me, for you seewith keen 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 headyou 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 Ihave felt immortal happiness!' Ah, Catharine, you have a cold heartand a cool head. May God preserve them both to you; then will you passthrough life quietly and safely; but you will yet be a poor, wretchedwoman, and when you come to die, they will place a royal crown upon yourcoffin, but love will not weep for you. Farewell, Catharine, Queenof England, and since you cannot love him, give Thomas Seymour, thetraitor, your sympathy at least. "

He bowed low and kissed her feet, then he arose and walked with firmstep to the tree where he had tied the horses. But now Catharinearose, now she flew to him, and grasping his hand, asked, trembling andbreathless, "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 justkilled my heart; he will kill only my body. That is less painful, and Iwill thank him for it. "

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

"If you do what you say, you will kill me, " said she, with tremblinglips. "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 toplunge with my horse down yonder precipice. Oh, fear nothing; they willnot accuse you of my murder. They will say that I plunged down therewith my horse, and that the raging animal caused my death. "

"Queen, take good heed, consider well what you say!" exclaimed ThomasSeymour, his countenance clearing up and his face flaming with delight. "Bear in mind that your words must be either a condemnation or anavowal. I wish death, or your love! Not the love of a queen, who thinksto be gracious to her subject, when for the moment she elevates himto herself; but the love of a woman who bows her head in meekness andreceives her lover as at the same time her lord. Oh, Catharine, be wellon your guard! If you come to me with the pride of a queen, if there beeven one thought in you which tells you that you are bestowing a favoron a subject as you take him to your heart, then be silent and let mego hence. I am proud, and as nobly born as yourself, and however lovethrows me conquered at your feet, yet it shall not bow my head inthe dust! But if you say that you love me, Catharine, for that I willconsecrate my whole life to you. I will be your lord, but your slavealso. There shall be in me no thought, no feeling, no wish that is notdevoted 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 myhead 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 hisface, whose glowing and noble expression ravished Catharine's heart. 

She hent down to him, and gently lifting his head, looked with anindescribable expression of happiness and love deep into his beamingeyes. 

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

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

"No, think not now of dying, Catharine, think of living--of thebeautiful, enchanting future which is beckoning to us. Think of thedays which will soon come, and in which our love will no longer requiresecresy or a veil, but when we will manifest it to the whole world, andcan proclaim our happiness from a full glad breast! Oh, Catharine, letus hope that compassionate and merciful death will loose at last theunnatural bonds that bind you to that old man. Then, when Henry is nomore, then will you be mine, mine with your entire being, with yourwhole life; and instead of a proud regal crown, a crown of myrtle shalladorn your head! Swear that to me, Catharine; swear that you will becomemy wife, as soon as death has set you free. "

The queen shuddered and her cheeks grew pale. "Oh, " said she with asigh, "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! God grant my request. Swear to me here in the face ofGod, and of sacred and calm nature around us, swear to me, that from theday when death frees you from your husband you will be mine, my wife, myconsort! Swear to me, that you, regardless of etiquette and unmindfulof tyrannical custom, will be Lord Seymour's wife, before the knell forHenry's death has died away. We will find a priest, who may bless ourlove and sanctify the covenant that we have this day concluded foreternity! Swear to me, that, till that wished--for day, you will keepfor me your truth and love, and never forget that my honor is yoursalso, that your happiness is also mine!"

"I swear it!" said Catharine, solemnly. "You may depend upon me at alltimes and at all hours. Never will I be untrue to you; never will I havea thought that is not yours. I will love you as Thomas Seymour deservesto be loved, that is with a devoted and faithful heart. It will be mypride to subject myself to you, and with glad soul will I serve andfollow you, as your true and obedient wife. "

"I accept your oath!" said Seymour, solemnly. "But in return I swearthat I will honor and esteem you as my queen and mistress. I swear toyou that you shall never find a more obedient subject, a more unselfishcounsellor, a more faithful husband, a braver champion, than I will be. 'My life for my queen, my entire heart for my beloved'; this henceforthshall be my motto, and may I 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 happinessknows--that silence which is so rich in thoughts and feelings, andtherefore so poor in words!

The wind rustled whisperingly in the trees, among whose dark brancheshere and there a bird's warbling or flute-like notes resounded. Thesun threw his emerald light over the soft velvety carpet of the ground, which, rising and falling in gentle, undulating lines, formed lovelylittle hollows and hillocks, on which now and then was seen here andthere the slender and stately figure of a hart, or a roe, that, lookingaround searchingly with his bright eyes, started back frightened intothe thicket on observing these two human figures and the group of horsesencamped there. 

Suddenly this quiet was interrupted by the loud sound of the hunter'shorn, and in the distance were heard confused cries and shouts, whichwere 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 herfrom paradise. 

For she was no longer worthy of paradise. The fatal word had beenspoken, and while it brought her love, it had perjured her. 

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

"It is passed, " said he, mournfully. "These sounds call me back to myslavery. We must both resume our roles. I must become queen again. "

"But first swear to me that you will never forget this hour; that youwill ever think upon the oaths which we have mutually sworn. "

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

"You will remain ever true, Catharine?"

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

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

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

Then her eyes fell on her beloved, and laying her hand softly uponhis shoulder, she said: "Love is like God--eternal, primeval, and everpresent! But you must believe in it to feel its presence; you must trustit to be worthy of its blessing!"

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 andgentle as a lamb, to his mistress. 

"Queen, " said Thomas Seymour, "two delinquents now approach you! Hectoris my accomplice, and had it not been that the fly I now see on hisswollen ear had made him raving, I should be the most pitiable andunhappy man in your kingdom, while now I am the happiest and mostenviable. "

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

"Henceforth, " said she, "then I will ride only Hector, and when he isold and unfit for service--"

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

The two rode in silence toward the sound of the voices and horns, bothtoo much occupied by their own thoughts to interrupt them by triflingwords. 

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

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

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

"One thing more!" whispered Catharine. "If you ever need a messenger tome, 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 theparticulars of her adventure, and her happy rescue by the master ofhorse. 

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

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

"My lord, " said she, in a vehement, almost threatening voice, "you haveoften and in vain besought me to grant you an interview. I have deniedyou. You intimated that you had many things to say to me, for which wemust be alone, and which must reach no listener's ear. Well, now, to-dayI 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 onlymade 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 blindElizabeth's eyes, that she may not see what she never ought to see. Thatwas all. "

The young princess cast on him an angry look, and a dark scowl gatheredon 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 beread in his countenance at this dangerous court, " interrupted the earlin a low murmur. "When, princess, may I see you and where?"

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

"John Heywood, again!" muttered the earl. "The confidant of both, and somy hangman, if he wishes to be!"

CHAPTER XIII. "LE ROI S'ENNUIT. "

King Henry was alone in his study. He had spent a few hours in writingon 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, hedesigned to commend to their reading instead of the Bible. 

He now laid down his pen, and, with infinite complacency, looked overthe written sheets, which were to be to his people a new proof of hispaternal love and care, and so convince them that Henry the Eighth wasnot 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 frequently. To bealone, annoyed and disturbed him--there were in his breast so manysecret and hidden voices, whose whispers he dreaded, and which, therefore, he sought to drown--there were so many recollections ofblood, which ever and again rose before him, however often he tried towash them out in fresh blood, and which the king was afraid of, thoughhe assumed the appearance of never repenting, never feeling disquietude. 

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

"Oh, at length!" said the lord, who had very well understood theexpression of Henry's features; "at length, the king condescends to begracious 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 alittle thought to his valuable and needful health. When you remember, sire, that England's weal depends solely and alone on the weal ofher 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 doubtthe earl's words. It seemed to him perfectly natural that the weal ofhis people depended on his person; but yet it was always a lofty andbeautiful song, and he loved to have his courtiers repeat it. 

The king, as we have said, smiled, but there was something unusual inthat smile, which did not escape the earl. 

"He is in the condition of a hungry anaconda, " said Earl Douglas tohimself. "He is on the watch for prey, and he will be bright and livelyagain 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 renderunto the king what is the king's. But we must be cautious and go to workwarily. "

He approached the king and imprinted a kiss on his hand. 

"I kiss this hand, " said he, "which has been to-day the fountain throughwhich the wisdom of the head has been poured forth on this blessedpaper. I kiss this paper, which will announce and explain to happyEngland God's pure and unadulterated word; but yet I say let thissuffice for the present, my king; take rest; remember awhile that youare not only a sage, but also a man. "

"Yes and truly a weak and decrepit one!" sighed the king, as withdifficulty he essayed to rise, and in so doing leaned so heavily and theearl's arm that he almost broke down under the monstrous load. 

"Decrepit!" said Earl Douglas, reproachfully. "Your majesty moves to-daywith as much ease and freedom as a youth, and my arm was by no meansneeded to help you up. "

"Nevertheless, we are growing old!" said the king, who, from hisweariness, was unusually sentimental and low-spirited to-day. 

"Old!" repeated Earl Douglas. "Old, with those eyes darting fire, andthat lofty brow, and that face, in every feature so noble! No, yourmajesty, kings have this in common with the gods--they never grow old. "

"And therein they resemble parrots to a hair!" said John Heywood, whojust then entered the room. "I own a parrot which my great-grandfatherinherited from his great-grandfather, who was hair-dresser to Henry theFourth, and which to-day still sings with the same volubility as hedid a hundred years ago: 'Long live the king! long live this paragon ofvirtue, sweetness, beauty, and mercy! Long live the king!' He has criedthis for hundreds of years, and he has repeated it for Henry the Fifthand Henry the Sixth, for Henry the Seventh and Henry the Eighth! Andwonderful, the kings have changed, but the song of praise has alwaysbeen appropriate, and has ever been only the simple truth! Just likeyours, my Lord Douglas! Your majesty may depend upon it, he speaks thetruth, for he is near akin to my parrot, which always calls him 'Mycousin, ' and has taught him his immortal song of praise to kings. "

The king laughed, while Earl Douglas cast at John Heywood 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. For you knowchildren and fools speak the truth. And I became a fool just on thisaccount, that the king, whom you all deceive by your lies, may haveabout him some creature, besides his looking-glass, to tell him thetruth. "

"Well, and what truth will you serve up for me today?"

"It is already served, your majesty. So lay aside for a little yourregal crown and your high priesthood, and conclude to be for awhile acarnivorous beast. It is very easy to become a king. For that, nothingmore is necessary than to be born of a queen under a canopy. But itis very difficult to be a man who has a good digestion. It requires ahealthy stomach and a light conscience. Come, King Henry, and let ussee whether you are not merely a king, but also a man that has a goodstomach. " And with a merry laugh he took the king's other arm and ledhim with the earl into the dining-room. 

The king, who was an extraordinary eater, silently beckoned his suiteto take their places at the table, after he had seated himself in hisgilded chair. With grave and solemn air he then received from the handsof the master of ceremonies the ivory tablet on which was the bill offare for the day. The king's dinner was a solemn and important affair. Amultitude of post-wagons and couriers were ever on the way to bring fromthe remotest ends of the earth dainties for the royal table. The billof fare, therefore, to-day, as ever, exhibited the choicest and rarestdishes; and always when the king found one of his favorite ones writtendown he made an assenting and approving motion of the head, which alwayslighted up the face of the master of ceremonies like a sunbeam. Therewere birds' nests brought from the East Indies by a fast-sailing vessel, built specially for the purpose. There were hens from Calcutta andtruffles from Languedoc, which the poet-king, Francis the First ofFrance, had the day before sent to his royal brother as a special tokenof affection. There was the sparkling wine of Champagne, and the fierywine of the Island of Cyprus, which the Republic of Venice had sent tothe king as a mark of respect. There were the heavy wines of the Rhine, which looked like liquid gold, and diffused the fragrance of a wholebouquet of flowers, and with which the Protestant princes of NorthernGermany hoped to fuddle the king, whom they would have gladly placedat the head of their league. There, too, were the monstrous, giganticpartridge pastries, which the Duke of Burgundy had sent, and theglorious fruits of the south, from the Spanish coast, with which theEmperor Charles the Fifth supplied the King of England's table. For itwas well known that, in order to make the King of England propitious, it was necessary first to satiate him; that his palate must first betickled, in order to gain his head or his heart. 

But to-day all these things seemed insufficient to give the king theblissful pleasure which, at other times, was wont to be with him when hesat at table. He heard John Heywood's jests and biting epigrams with amelancholy smile, and a cloud was on his brow. 

To be in cheerful humor, the king absolutely needed the presence ofladies. He needed them as the hunter needs the roe to enjoy the pleasureof the chase--that pleasure which consists in killing the defencelessand in declaring war against the innocent and peaceful. 

The crafty courtier, Earl Douglas, readily divined Henry'sdissatisfaction, and understood the secret meaning of his frowns andsighs. He hoped much from them, and was firmly resolved to draw someadvantage therefrom, to the benefit of his daughter, and the harm of thequeen. 

"Your majesty, " said he, "I am just on the point of turning traitor, andaccusing my king of an injustice. "

The king turned his flashing eyes upon him, and put his hand, sparklingwith jewelled rings, to the golden goblet filled with Rhenish wine. 

"Of an injustice--me--your king?" asked he, with stammering tongue. 

"Yes, of an injustice, inasmuch as you are for me God's visiblerepresentative on earth. I would blame God if He withdrew from us fora day the brightness of the sun, the gorgeousness and perfume of Hisflowers, for since we children of men are accustomed to enjoy theseglories, we have in a certain measure gained a right to them. So Iaccuse you because you have withdrawn from us the embodied flowers andthe incarnate suns; because you have been so cruel, sire, as to send thequeen to Epping Forest. "

"Not so; the queen wanted to ride, " said Henry, peevishly. "The springweather attracted her, and since I, alas! do not possess God'sexalted attribute of ubiquity, I was, no doubt, obliged to come to theresolution of being deprived of her presence. There is no horse capableof carrying the King of England. "

"There is Pegasus, however, and in masterly manner you know how tomanage him. But how, your majesty! the queen wanted to ride, though shewas deprived of your presence thereby? She wanted to ride, though thispleasure-ride was at the same time a separation from you? Oh how coldand selfish are women's hearts! Were I a woman, I would never departfrom your side, I would covert no greater happiness than to be nearyou, and to listen to that high and exalted wisdom which pours from yourinspired lips. Were I a woman--"

"Earl, I opine that your wish is perfectly fulfilled, " said John Heywoodseriously. "You make in all respects the impression of an old woman!"

All laughed. But the king did not laugh; he remained serious and lookedgloomily before him. 

"It is true, " muttered he, "she seemed excited with joy about thisexcursion, and in her eyes shone a fire I have seldom seen there. There must be some peculiar circumstance connected with this ride. Whoaccompanied the queen?"

"Princess Elizabeth, " said John Heywood, who had heard everything, andsaw clearly the arrow that the earl had shot at the queen. "PrincessElizabeth, her true and dear friend, who never leaves her side. Besides, her maids of honor, who, like the dragon in the fable, keep watch overthe beautiful princess. "

"Who else is in the queen's company?" inquired Henry, sullenly. 

"The master of horse, Earl of Sudley, " said Douglas, "and--"

"That is an observation in the highest degree superfluous, " interruptedJohn Heywood; "it is perfectly well understood by itself that the masterof horse accompanies the queen. That is just as much his office as it isyours to sing the song of your cousin, my parrot. "

"He is right, " said the king quickly. "Thomas Seymour must accompanyher, and it is my will also. Thomas Seymour is a faithful servant, andthis he has inherited from his sister Jane, my much loved queen, now atrest with God, that he is devoted to his king in steadfast affection. "

"The time has not yet come when one may assail the Seymours, " thoughtthe earl. "The king is yet attached to them; so he will feel hostiletoward the foes of the Seymours. Let us then begin our attack on HenryHoward--that is to say, on the queen. "

"Who accompanied the queen besides?" inquired Henry the Eighth, emptyingthe golden beaker at a draught, as though he would thereby cool thefire which already began to blaze within him. But the fiery Rhenish wineinstead of cooling only heated him yet more; it drove, like a tempest, the fire kindled in his jealous heart in bright flames to his head, andmade his brain glow like his heart. 

"Who else accompanied her beside these?" asked Earl Douglas carelessly. "Well, I think, the lord chamberlain, Earl of Surrey. "

A dark scowl gathered on the king's brow. The lion had scented his prey. 

"The lord chamberlain is not in the queen's train!" said John Heywoodearnestly. 

"No, " exclaimed Earl Douglas. "The poor earl. That will make him verysad. "

"And why think you that will make him sad?" asked the king in a voicevery like the roll of distant thunder. 

"Because the Earl of Surrey is accustomed to live in the sunshine ofroyal favor, sire; because he resembles that flower which always turnsits 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 youcan see better. This time you have confounded the sun with one of itssatellites. Earl Surrey is far too prudent a man to be so foolish as togaze at the sun, and thereby blind his eyes and parch his brain. Andso he is satisfied to worship one of the planets that circle round thesun. "

"What does the fool intend to say by that?" asked the earlcontemptuously. 

"The wise will thereby give you to understand that you have this timemistaken your daughter for the queen, " said John Heywood, emphasizingsharply every word, "and that it has happened to you, as to many a greatastrologer, you have taken a planet for a sun. "

Earl Douglas cast a dark, spiteful look at John Heywood, who answered itwith one equally piercing and furious. 

Their eyes were firmly fixed on each other's, and in those eyes theyboth read all the hatred and all the bitterness which were working inthe depths of their souls. Both knew that they had from that hour swornto each other an enmity burning and full of danger. 

The king had noticed nothing of this dumb but significant scene. He waslooking down, brooding over his gloomy thoughts, and the storm-cloudsrolling around his brow gathered darker and darker. 

With an impetuous movement he arose from his seat, and this time heneeded no helping hand to stand up. Wrath was the mighty lever thatthrew him up. 

The courtiers arose from their seats in silence, and nobody besides JohnHeywood observed the look of understanding which Earl Douglas exchangedwith Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and Wriothesley, the lordchancellor. 

"Ah, why is not Cranmer here?" said John Heywood to himself. "I see thethree 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 theirroaring. "

"The dinner is over, gentlemen!" said the king hastily; and thecourtiers 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 concealedhimself behind the hanging of gold brocade which covered the doorleading 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 weoccupy ourselves with the weal of our beloved subjects, and consultconcerning their happiness 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 slowlytoward the cabinet, at the entrance of which the lord chancellor and theBishop of Winchester were waiting for him, he asked in a low voice:"You say that Henry Howard dares ever intrude himself into the queen'spresence?"

"Sire, I did not say that; I meant only that he is constantly to be seenin 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 didnot!" said the king, in whose face the first lightning of the burstingcloud of wrath began to flash. 

"My head belongs to the king!" said Earl Douglas respectfully. "Let himdo 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, asI did his sister!" exclaimed Henry, fiercely. "The Howards are anambitious, dangerous, and hypocritical race. "

"A race that never forgets that a daughter of their house has sat onyour throne. "

"But they shall forget it, " cried the king, "and I must wash these proudand haughty thoughts out of their brain with their own blood. Theyhave not then learned, from the example of their sister, how I punishdisloyalty. This insolent race needs another fresh example. Well, theyshall have it. Only put the means in my hand, Douglas, only a littlehook 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 ofthe earl's criminal love, and I promise you that for this I will grantyou what you ask. "

"Sire, I will give you this proof. "

"When?"

"In four days, sire! At the great contest of the poets, which you haveordered to take place on the queen's birthday. "

"I thank you, Douglas, I thank you, " said the king with an expressionalmost of joy. "In four days you will have rid me of the troublesome raceof Howards. "

"But, sire, if I cannot give the proof you demand without accusing oneother person?"

The king, who was just about to pass the door of his cabinet, stoodstill, and looked steadily into the earl's eyes. "Then, " said he, in atone peculiarly awful, "you mean the queen? Well, if she is guilty, Iwill punish her. God has placed the sword in my hand that I may bear itto His honor and to the terror of mankind. If the queen has sinned, shewill be punished. Furnish me the proof of Howard's guilt, and do nottrouble yourself if we thereby discover the guilt of others. We shallnot timidly shrink back, but let justice take its course. "

CHAPTER XIV. THE QUEEN'S FRIEND. 

Earl Douglas, Gardiner, and Wriothesley, had accompanied the king intohis cabinet. 

At last the great blow was to be struck, and the plan of the threeenemies of the queen, so long matured and well-considered, was to be atlength put in execution. Therefore, as they followed the king, who withunwonted activity preceded them, they exchanged with each other one morelook of mutual 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 observedeverything, could not forbear a slight shudder at the sight of thesefour men, whose dark and hard features seemed incapable of being touchedby any ray of pity or mercy. 

There was first the king, that man with the Protean countenance, acrosswhich storm and sunshine, God and the devil traced each minute newlines; who could be now an inspired enthusiast, and now a bloodthirstytyrant; now a sentimental wit, and anon a wanton reveler; the king, onwhose constancy nobody, not even himself, could rely; ever ready, as itsuited his caprice or his interest, to betray his most faithful friend, and to send to the scaffold to-day those whom but yesterday he hadcaressed and assured of his unchanging affection; the king, whoconsidered himself privileged to indulge with impunity his lowappetites, his revengeful impulses, his bloodthirsty inclinations; whowas devout from vanity, because devotion afforded him an opportunity ofidentifying himself with God, and of regarding himself in some sort thepatron of Deity. 

There was Earl Douglas, the crafty courtier with ever-smiling face, whoseemed to love everybody, while in fact he hated all; who assumed theappearance of perfect harmlessness, and seemed to be indifferent toeverything but pleasure, while nevertheless secretly he held in hishand all the strings of that great net which encompassed alike courtand king--Earl Douglas, whom the king loved for this alone, becausehe generally gave him the title of grand and wise high-priest of theChurch, and who was, notwithstanding this, Loyola's vicegerent, and atrue and faithful adherent of that pope who had damned the king as adegenerate son and given him over to the wrath of God. 

Lastly, there were the two men with dark, malignant looks, withinflexible, stony faces, which u ere never lighted up by a smile, ora gleam of joy; who always condemned, always punished, and whosecountenances never brightened save when the dying shriek of thecondemned, or the groans of some poor wretch upon the rack, fell upontheir ears; who were the tormentors of humanity, while they calledthemselves the ministers and servants of God. 

"Sire, " said Gardiner, when the king had slowly taken his seat upon theottoman--"sire, let us first ask the blessing of the Lord our God onthis hour of conference. May God, who is love, but who is wrath also, may He enlighten and bless us!"

The king devoutly folded his hands, but it was only a prayer of wraththat animated his soul. 

"Grant, O God, that I may punish Thine enemies, and everywhere dash inpieces the guilty!"

"Amen!" said Gardiner, as he repeated with solemn earnestness the king'swords. 

"Send us the thunderbolt of Thy wrath, " prayed Wriothesley, "that we mayteach the world to recognize Thy power and glory!"

Earl Douglas took care not to pray aloud. What he had to request of Godwas not 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 formy daughter, who is destined to bring back into the arms of our holymother, the Church--guilty and faithless king. "

"Now my lords, " said the king, fetching a long breath, "now tell me howstand matters in my kingdom, and at my court?"

"Badly, " said Gardiner. "Unbelief again lifts up its head. It is ahydra. If you strike off one of its heads, two others immediately springup in its place. This cursed sect of reformists and atheists multipliesday by day, and our prisons are no longer sufficient to contain them;and when we drag them to the stake, their joyful and courageous deathalways makes fresh proselytes and fresh apostates. "

"Yes, matters are bad, " said the Lord Chancellor Wriothesley; "in vainhave we promised pardon and forgiveness to all those who would returnpenitent and contrite; they laugh to scorn our offers of pardon, andprefer a death of torture to the royal clemency. What avails it that wehave burnt to death Miles Coverdale, who had the hardihood to translatethe Bible? His death appears to have been only the tocsin that arousedother fanatics, and, without our being able to divine or suspect whereall these books come from, they have overflowed and deluged the wholeland; and we now already have more than four translations of the Bible. The people read them with eagerness; and the corrupt seek of mentalillumination and free-thinking waxes daily more powerful and morepernicious. "

"And now you, Earl Douglas?" asked the king, when the lord chancellorceased. "These noble lords have told me how 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 wordto sink into the king's breast like a poisoned arrow--"sire, the peoplebut follow the example which the court sets them. How can you requirefaith of the people, when under their own eyes the court turns faith toridicule, and when infidels find at court aid and protection?"

"You accuse, but give no names, " said the king, impatiently. "Who daresat my court be a protector of heretics?"

"Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury!" said the three men, as with onemouth. The signal-word was spoken, the standard of a bloody struggle setup. 

"Cranmer?" repeated the king thoughtfully. "He has, however, alwaysbeen a faithful servant and an attentive friend to me. It was he whodelivered me from the unholy bond with Catharine of Aragon: it was hetoo who warned me of Catharine Howard, and furnished me with proofs ofher guilt. Of what misdemeanor do you accuse him?"

"He denies the six articles, " said Gardiner, whose malicious face nowglowed with bitter hatred. "He reprobates auricular confession, andbelieves not that the voluntarily taken vows of celibacy are binding. "

"If he does that, then he is a traitor!" cried the king, who was fond ofalways throwing a reverence for chastity and modesty, as a kind of holymantle, over his own profligate and lewd life; and whom nothing moreembittered than to encounter another on that path of vice which hehimself, by virtue of his royal prerogative, and his crown by the graceof God, could travel in perfect safety. 

"If he does that, then he is a traitor! My arm of vengeance will smitehim!" repeated the king again. "It was I who gave my people the sixarticles, as a sacred and authoritative declaration of faith; and Iwill not suffer this only true and right doctrine to be assailed andobscured. But you are mistaken, my lords. I am acquainted with Cranmer, and I know that he is loyal and faithful. "

"And yet it is he, " said Gardiner, "who confirms these heretics in theirobduracy and stiff-neckedness. He is the cause why these lost wretchesdo not, from the fear of divine wrath at least, return to you, theirsovereign and high-priest. For he preaches to them that God is love andmercy; he teaches them that Christ came into the world in order to bringto the world love and the forgiveness of sins, and that they alone areChrist's true disciples and servants who emulate His love. Do you notsee then, sire, that this is a covert and indirect accusation againstyourself, and that while he praises pardoning love, he at the same timecondemns and accuses your righteous and punitory wrath?"

The king did not answer immediately, but sat with his eyes fixed, graveand pondering. The fanatical priest had gone too far; and, without beingaware of it, it was he himself who was that very instant accusing theking. 

Earl Douglas felt this. He read in the king's face that he was just thenin one of those moments of contrition which sometimes came over him whenhis soul held involuntary intercourse with itself. It was necessary toarouse the sleeping tiger and point out to him some prey, so as to makehim 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 followerof his king. But he gives to the world an abominable example of adisobedient and perfidious servant; he denies the truth of the sixarticles, not in words, but in deeds. You have ordered that the priestsof the Church remain single. Now, then, the Archbishop of Canterbury ismarried!"

"Married!" cried the king, his visage glowing with rage. "Ah, I willchastise him, this transgressor of my holy laws! A minister of theChurch, a priest, whose whole life should be naught but an exhibition ofholiness, an endless communion with God, and whose high calling it isto renounce fleshly lusts and earthly desires! And he is married! I willmake him feel the whole weight of my royal anger! He shall learn fromhis own experience that the king's justice is inexorable, and that inevery 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 sometimestardy 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 flushedwith rage and excitement. "Where is the offender whom I have notpunished? Where in my realm lives a being who has sinned against God orhis 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 Bishop Cranmer wills that she should not die, " saidDouglas, shrugging his shoulders. The king broke out into a short, drylaugh. "Ah, Cranmer wills not that Anne Askew die!" said he, sneering. "He wills not that this girl, who has so fearfully offended against herking, and against God, should be punished!"

"Yes, she has offended fearfully, and yet two years have passed awaysince her offence, " cried Gardiner--"two years which she has spent inderiding God and mocking the king!"

"Ah, " said the king, "we have still hoped to turn this young, misguidedcreature from the ways of sin and error to the path of wisdom andrepentance. We wished for once to give our people a shining example ofour willingness to forgive those who repent and renounce their heresy, and to restore them to a participation of our royal favor. Therefore itwas that we commissioned you, my lord bishop, by virtue of your prayersand your forcible and convincing words, to pluck this poor child fromthe claws of the devil, who has charmed her ear. "

"But she is unbending, " said Gardiner, grinding his teeth. "In vain haveI depicted to her the pains of hell, which await her if she return notto the faith; in vain have I subjected her to every variety of tortureand penance; in vain have I sent to her in prison other converts, and had them pray with her night and day incessantly; she remainsunyielding, hard as stone, and neither the fear of punishment nor theprospect of freedom and happiness has the power to soften that marbleheart. "

"There is one means yet untried, " said Wriothesley--"a means, moreover, which is a more effective preacher of repentance than the mostenthusiastic orators and the most fervent prayers, and which I have tothank for bringing back to God and the faith many of the most hardenedheretics. "

"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, devoutlyfolding his hands. 

"The soul must be saved, though the body be pierced with wounds!" criedWriothesley. 

"The people must be convinced, " said Douglas, "that the lofty spiritof the king spares not even those who are under the protection ofinfluential and might personages. The people murmur that this timejustice is not permitted to prevail, because Archbishop Cranmer protectsAnne Askew, and the queen is her friend. "

"The queen is never the friend of a criminal!" said Henry, vehemently. 

"Perchance she does not consider Anne Askew a criminal, " responded KarlDouglas, with a slight smile. "It is known, indeed, that the queen is agreat friend of the Reformation; and the people, who dare not call her aheretic--the people call her 'the Protestant. '"

"Is it, then, really believed that it is Catharine who protects AnneAskew, 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 Eighthwell deserves to be called the Defender of the Faith and the Head ofhis Church!" cried the king, with burning rage. "For when have I shownmyself so long-suffering and weak in punishing, that people believe meinclined to pardon and deal gently? Have I not sent to the scaffold evenThomas More and Cromwell, two renowned and in a certain respect nobleand high-minded men, because they dared defy my supremacy and opposethe doctrine and ordinance which I commanded them to believe? Have I notsent to the block two of my queens--two beautiful young women, in whommy heart was well pleased, even when I punished them--because theyhad provoked my wrath? Who, after such brilliant examples of ourannihilating justice, who dare accuse us of forbearance?"

"But at that time, sire, " said Douglas, in his soft, insinuating voice, "but at that time no queen as yet stood at your side who called hereticstrue believers, and favored traitors with her friendship. "

The king frowned, and his wrathful look encountered the friendly andsubmissive countenance of the earl. "You know I hate these covertattacks, " 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 earl, "only shesometimes permits herself to be led away by her magnanimous spirit. Orhow, your majesty, can it possibly be with your permission that my ladythe queen maintains a correspondence with Anne Askew?"

"What say you? The queen in correspondence with Anne Askew?" cried theking in a voice of thunder. "That is a lie, a shameless lie, hatched upto ruin the queen; for it is very well known that the poor king, who hasbeen so often deceived, so often imposed upon, believes himself to haveat last found in this woman a being whom he can trust, and in whom hecan put faith. And they grudge him that. They wish to strip him of thislast hope also, that his heart may harden entirely to stone, and noemotion 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 thanyesterday, was made to give up a note from Anne Askew to the queen. "

The king remained silent for a while, and gazed fixedly on theground. His three confidants observed him with breathless, tremblingexpectation. 

At length the king raised his head again, and turned his gaze, whichwas now grave and steady, upon the lord chancellor. "My Lord ChancellorWriothesley, " said he, "I empower you to conduct Anne Askew to thetorture-room, and try whether the torments which are prepared for thebody are perchance able to bring this erring soul to an acknowledgmentof her faults. My Lord Bishop Gardiner, I promise my word that I willgive attention to your accusation against the Archbishop of Canterbury, and that, if it be well founded, he shall not escape punishment. My LordDouglas, I will give my people and all the world proof that I amstill God's righteous and avenging vice-gerent on earth, and that noconsideration can restrain my wrath, no after-thought stay my arm, whenever 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 littlefrom 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 reception-room. I want to seebright and laughing faces around me. Call John Heywood, and if you meetany ladies in the palace, of course I beg them to shed on us a little ofthat sunshine which you say is peculiarly woman's. "

He laughed, and, leaning on the earl's arm, left the cabinet. 

Gardiner and Wriothesley stood there in silence, watching the king, whoslowly and heavily traversed the adjacent hall, and whose cheery andlaughing voice came ringing back to them. 

"He is a weathercock, turning every moment from side to side, " saidGardiner, with a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. 

"He calls himself God's sword of vengeance, but he is nothing more thana weak tool, which we bend and use at our will, " muttered Wriothesley, with a hoarse laugh. "Poor, pitiful fool, deeming himself so mightyand sturdy; imagining himself a free king, ruling by his sovereignwill alone, and yet he is but our servant and drudge! Our great work isapproaching its end, and we shall one day triumph. Anne Askew's death isthe sign of a new covenant, which will deliver England and trample theheretics like dust beneath our feet. And when at length we shall haveput down Cranmer, and brought Catharine Parr to the scaffold, thenwill we give King Henry a queen who will reconcile him with God and theChurch, out of which is no salvation. "

"Amen, so be it!" said Gardiner; and arm in arm they both left thecabinet. 

Deep stillness now reigned in that little spot, and nobody saw JohnHeywood as he now came from behind the hanging, and, completely worn outand faint, slipped for a moment into a chair. 

"Now I know, so far at least, the plan of these blood-thirstytiger-cats, " muttered he. "They wish to give Henry a popish queen; andso Cranmer must be overthrown, that, when they have deprived the queenof this powerful prop, they may destroy her also and tread her in thedust. But as God liveth, they shall not succeed in this! God is just, and He will at last punish these evil-doers. And supposing there is noGod, then will we try a little with the devil himself. No, they shallnot destroy the noble Cranmer and this beautiful, high-minded queen. I forbid it--I, John Heywood, the king's fool. I will see everything, observe everything, hear everything. They shall find me everywhere ontheir path; and when they poison the king's ear with their diabolicalwhisperings, I will heal it again with my merry deviltries. The king'sfool will be the guardian angel of the queen. "

CHAPTER XV. JOHN HEYWOOD. 

After so much care and excitement, the king needed an hour of recreationand amusement. Since the fair young queen was seeking these far awayin 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 thequeen's. His unwieldiness and his load of flesh prevented him frompursuing the joys of life beyond his own halls; so the lords and ladiesof his court had to bring them hither to him, and station the flittinggoddess of Joy, with her wings fettered, in front of the king'strundle-chair. 

The gout had that day again overcome that mighty king of earth; and aheavy, grotesque mass it was which sat there in the elbow-chair. 

But the courtiers still called him a fine-looking and fascinating man;and the ladies still smiled on him and said, by their sighs and by theirlooks, that they loved him; that he was ever to them the same handsomeand captivating man that he was twenty years before, when yet young, fine-looking, and slim. How they smile upon him, and ogle him! HowLady Jane, the maiden otherwise so haughty and so chaste, does wish toensnare him with her bright eyes as with a net! How bewitchingly doesthe Duchess of Richmond, that fair and voluptuous woman, laugh at theking's merry jests and double entendres!

Poor king! whose corpulency forbids him to dance as he once had donewith so much pleasure and so much dexterity! Poor king! whose ageforbids him to sing as once he had done to the delight both of the courtand himself!

But there are yet, however, pleasant, precious, joyous hours, when theman revives some little in the king; when even youth once more againawakes within him, and smiles in a few dear, blessed pleasures. The kingstill 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-likeeyes! How beautiful Lady Richmond, this full-blown red rose with thepearl-white teeth!

And they both smile at him; and when the king swears he loves them, theybashfully 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 QueenCatharine is living. "

"Yes, she is living!" muttered the king; and his brow darkened; and fora moment the smile disappeared from his lips. 

Lady Jane had committed a mistake. She had reminded the king of his wifewhen it was yet too soon to ask for her death. 

John Heywood read this in the countenance of his royal master, andresolved to take advantage of it. He wished to divert the attention ofthe king, and to draw it away from the beautiful, captivating women whowere juggling him with their bewitching charms. 

"Yes, the queen lives!" said he, joyfully, "and God be praised for it!For how tedious and dull it would be at this court had we not our fairqueen, who is as wise as Methuselah, and innocent and good as a new-bornbabe! Do you not, Lady Jane, say with me, God be praised that QueenCatharine is living?"

"I say so with you!" said Jane, with ill-concealed vexation. 

"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 isstill alive!' while I never know but one phrase, 'God have pity, mywife is still alive!' Ah, it is very seldom, king, that I have heard amarried man speak otherwise! You are in that too, as in all things else, an exception, King Henry; and your people have never loved you morewarmly and purely than when you say, 'I thank God that my consort isalive!' Believe me, you are perhaps the only man at your court whospeaks after this manner, 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 nowthe rude babbler! Do you not believe, then, that we women deserve to beloved?"

"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 smoothhide!"

"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 voluptuousand at the same time canting court--a song full of the most wantonallusions, of the most cutting jests against both monks and women; asong which made Henry laugh, and the ladies blush; and in whichJohn Heywood had poured forth in glowing dithyrambics all his secretindignation against Gardiner, the sneaking hypocrite of a priest, andagainst Lady Jane, the queen's false and treacherous friend. 

But the ladies laughed not. They darted flashing glances at JohnHeywood; and Lady Richmond earnestly and resolutely demanded thepunishment of the perfidious wretch who dared to defame women. The kinglaughed still harder. The rage of the ladies was so exceedingly amusing. 

"Sire, " said the beautiful Richmond, "he has insulted not us, butthe whole sex; and in the name of our sex, I demand revenge for theaffront. "

"Yes, revenge!" cried Lady Jane, hotly. 

"Revenge!" repeated the rest of the ladies. 

"See, now, what pious and gentle-hearted doves ye are!" cried JohnHeywood. 

The king said, laughingly: "Well, now, you shall have your will--youshall 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 puttingon 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 tothe gigantic vases of Chinese porcelain, containing enormous bunchesof roses, on whose long stems arose a real forest of formidable-lookingthorns. 

"Pull the large bouquets to pieces; take the roses in your hand, andwhip him with the stems!" said the king, and his eyes glistened withinhuman delight, for the scene promised to be quite interesting. Therose-stems were long and hard, and the thorns on them pointed and sharpas daggers. How nicely they would pierce the flesh, and how he wouldyell and screw his face, the good-natured fool!

"Yes, yes, let him take off his coat, and we will whip him!" cried theDuchess of Richmond; and the women, all joining in the cry, rushed likefuries upon John Heywood, and forced him to lay aside his silk uppergarment. Then they hurried to the vases, snatched out the bouquets, andwith busy hands picked out the longest and stoutest stems. And loud weretheir exclamations of satisfaction, if the thorns were right and sharp, such as would penetrate the flesh of the offender right deeply. Theking's laughter and shouts of approval animated them more and more, and made them more excited and furious. Their cheeks glowed, their eyesglared; they resembled Bacchantes circling the god of riotous jovialitywith their shouts of "Evoe! evoe!"

"Not yet! do not strike yet!" cried the king. "You must first strengthenyourselves 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 onthe spot which the king's mouth had touched. And now their eyes had abrighter flame, and their cheeks a more fiery glow. 

A strange and exciting sight it was, to see those beautiful womenburning with malicious joy and thirst for vengeance, who for the momenthad laid aside all their elegant attitudes, their lofty and haughtyairs, to transform themselves into wanton Bacchantes, bent on chastisingthe offender, who had so often and so bitterly lashed them all with histongue. 

"Ah, I would a painter were here!" said the king. "He should paint us apicture of the chaste nymphs of Diana pursuing Actaeon. You are Actaeon, John!"

"But they are not the chaste nymphs, king; no, far from it, " criedHeywood; laughing, "and between these fair women and Diana I find noresemblance, but only a difference. "

"And in what consists the difference, John?"

"Herein, sire, that Diana carried her horn at her side; but these fairladies make their husbands wear their horns on the forehead!"

A loud peal of laughter from the gentlemen, a yell of rage from theladies, was the reply of this new epigram of John Heywood. They arrangedthemselves in two rows, and thus formed a lane through which JohnHeywood had to pass. 

"Come, John Heywood, come and receive your punishment;" and they raisedtheir thorny rods threateningly, and flourished them with angry gestureshigh above their heads. 

The scene was becoming to John in all respects very piquant, for theserods had very sharp thorns, and only a thin linen shirt covered hisback. 

With bold step, however, he approached the fatal passage through whichhe was to pass. 

Already he beheld the rods drawn back; and it seemed to him as if thethorns were even now piercing his back. 

He halted, and turned with a laugh to the king. "Sire, since you havecondemned me to die by the hands of these nymphs, I claim the right ofevery condemned criminal--a last favor. "

"The which we grant you, John. "

"I demand that I may put on these fair women one condition--onecondition 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 shallbe faithfully kept and fulfilled?"

"My solemn, kingly word for it!"

"Now, then, " said John Heywood, as he entered the passage, "now, then, my ladies, my condition is this: that one of you who has had the mostlovers, and has oftenest decked her husband's head with horns, let herlay the first stroke on my back. " [Footnote: Flogel's "Geschichte derHofnarren, " p. 899]

A deep silence followed. The raised arms of the fair women sank. Theroses fell from their hands and dropped to the ground. Just before sobloodthirsty and revengeful, they seemed now to have become the softestand gentlest of beings. 

But could their looks have killed, their fire certainly would haveconsumed poor John Heywood, who now gazed at them with an insolentsneer, 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 chastisehim, " said the Duchess of Richmond. 

"Shall your enemy who has injured you go thus unpunished?" asked theking. "No, no, my ladies; it shall not be said that there is a man in mykingdom whom I have let escape when so richly deserving punishment. Wewill, therefore, impose some other punishment on him. He calls himselfa poet, and has often boasted that he could make his pen fly as fastas his tongue! Now, then, John, show us in this manner that you are noliar! I command you to write, for the great court festival which takesplace in a few days, a new interlude; and one indeed, hear you, John, which is calculated to make the greatest growler merry, and over whichthese ladies will be forced to laugh so heartily, that they will forgetall their ire!"

"Oh, " said John dolefully, "what an equivocal and lewd poem it must beto please these ladies and make them laugh! My king, we must, then, toplease these dear ladies, forget a little our chastity, modesty, andmaiden bashfulness, and speak in the spirit of the ladies--that is tosay, as lasciviously as possible. "

"You are a wretch!" said Lady Jane; "a vulgar hypocritical 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? Infour days will this festival begin; I give you two days more. In sixdays, then, you have to write a new interlude. And if he fails to doit, my ladies, you shall whip him until you bring the blood; and thatwithout any condition. " Just then was heard without a flourish oftrumpets and the clatter of horse-hoofs. 

"The queen has returned, " said John Heywood, with a countenance beamingwith joy, as he fixed his smiling gaze full of mischievous satisfactionon Lady Jane. 

"Nothing further now remains for you to do, but dutifully to meet yourmistress 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 throughthe anteroom and down the steps to meet the queen. Lady Jane watched himwith a dark, angry look; and as she turned slowly to the door to go andmeet the queen, she muttered low between her closely-pressed lips: "Thefool must die, for he is the queen's friend!"

CHAPTER XVI. THE CONFIDANT. 

The queen was just ascending the steps of the great public staircase, and she greeted John Heywood with a friendly smile. 

"My lady, " said he aloud, "I have a few words in private to say to you, in the name of his majesty. "

"Words in private!" repeated Catharine, as she stopped upon the terraceof the palace. "Well, then, fall back, my lords and ladies; we wish toreceive his majesty's mysterious message. "

The royal train silently and respectfully withdrew into the largeanteroom of the palace, while the queen remained alone with John Heywoodon the terrace. 

"Now, speak, John. "

"Queen, heed well my words, and grave them deep on your memory! Aconspiracy is forged against you, and in a few days, at the greatfestival, it will be ripe for execution. Guard well, therefore, everyword you utter, ay, even your very thoughts. Beware of every dangerousstep, for you may be certain that a listener stands behind you! Andif you need a confidant, confide in no one but me! I tell you, a greatdanger lies before you, and only by prudence and presence of mind willyou be able to avoid it. "

This time the queen did not laugh at her friend's warning voice. She wasserious; she even trembled. 

She had lost her proud sense of security and her serene confidence--shewas no longer guiltless--she had a dangerous secret to keep, consequently she felt a dread of discovery; and she trembled not merelyfor herself, but also for him whom she loved. 

"And in what consists this plot?" asked she, with agitation. 

"I do not yet understand it; I only know that it exists. But I willsearch it out, and if your enemies lurk about you with watchful eyes, well, then, I will have spying eyes to observe 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 Heywood, sadly, for he had fully understoodthe queen's sigh of relief, and he knew that she had trembled foranother. "But remember, queen, that Cranmer's destruction would belikewise your own; and that as you protect the archbishop, he also willprotect you with the king--you, queen, and 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 friendto him and to you; for you two are my only friends: is it not so?"

"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 alow 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 greensummer-house at twelve o'clock to-night. You must be my attendant on adangerous 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 slightblush, "only, if you perchance meet Earl Sudley, you may say to him thatI charged you to greet him in my name. "

"Oh!" sighed John Hey wood, sadly. 

"He has to-day saved my life, John, " said she, as if excusing 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 andspiteful of all devils!" muttered John Heywood. "This devil, chance, throws in the queen's way the very person she ought most to avoid; andshe must be, as in duty bound, very grateful to a lover. Oh, oh, sohe has saved her life? But who knows whether he may not be one day thecause of her losing it!"

He dropped his head gloomily upon his breast, when suddenly he heardbehind him a low voice calling his name; and as he turned, he saw theyoung Princess Elizabeth hastening toward him with a hurried step. Shewas at that moment very beautiful. Her eyes gleamed with the fire ofpassion; her cheeks glowed; and about her crimson lips there played agentle, happy smile. She wore, according to the fashion of the time, a close-fitting high-necked dress, which showed off to perfection thedelicate lines of her slender and youthful form, while the wide standingcollar concealed the somewhat too great length of her neck, and made herruddy, as yet almost childish face stand out as it were from a pedestal. On either side of her high, thoughtful brow, fell, in luxuriousprofusion, light flaxen curls; her head was covered with a black velvetcap, from which a white feather drooped to her shoulders. 

She was altogether a charming and lovely apparition, full ofnobleness and grace, full of fire and energy; and yet, in spite of heryouthfulness, not wanting in a certain grandeur and dignity. Elizabeth, though still almost a child, and frequently bowed and humbled bymisfortune, yet ever remained her father's own daughter. And thoughHenry had declared her a bastard and excluded her from the successionto 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 Heywood, she was not, however, the haughty, imperious princess, but merely the shy, blushing maiden, who feared totrust her first girlish secret to another's ear, and ventured only withtrembling hand to draw aside the veil which concealed her heart. 

"John Heywood, " said she, "you have often told me that you loved me; andI know that my poor unfortunate mother trusted you, and summoned you asa 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 faithfulfriend?"

"I will, " said Heywood, solemnly, "and as true as there is a God aboveus, you shall never find me a traitor. "

"I believe you, John; I know that I may trust you. Listen then, I willnow tell you my secret--a secret which no one but God knows, and thebetrayal of which might bring me to the scaffold. Will you then swearto me, that you will never, under any pretext, and from any motivewhatsoever, betray to anybody, so much as a single word of what I am nowabout to tell you? Will you swear to me, never to intrust this secretto any one, even on your death-bed, and not to betray it even in theconfessional?"

"Now as regards that, princess, " said John, with a laugh, "youare perfectly safe. I never go to confession, for confession is ahighly-spiced dish of popery on which I long since spoilt my stomach;and as concerns my deathbed, one cannot, under the blessed and piousreign of Henry the Eighth, altogether know whether he will be really aparticipant of any kind, or whether he may not make a far more speedyand convenient trip into eternity by the aid of the hangman. "

"Oh, be serious, John--do, I pray you! Let the fool's mask, underwhich you hide your sober and honest face, not hide it from me also. Beserious, John, and swear to me that you will keep my secret. "

"Well, then, I swear, princess; I swear by your mother's spirit tobetray 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 maycatch a single word of mine and bear it farther. John, I love!"

She saw the half-surprised, half-incredulous smile which played aroundJohn Heywood's lips. "Oh, " continued she, passionately, "you believeme not. You consider my fourteen years, and you think the child knowsnothing yet of a maiden's feelings. But remember, John, that those girlswho live under a warm sun are early ripened by his glowing rays, and arealready wives and mothers when they should still be dreaming children. Well, now, I too am the daughter of a torrid zone, only mine has notbeen the sun of prosperity, and it has been sorrow and misfortune whichhave matured my heart. Believe me, John, I love! A glowing, consumingfire rages within me; it is at once my delight and my misery, myhappiness and my future. 

"The king has robbed me of a brilliant and glorious future; let themnot, then, grudge me a happy one, at least. Since I am never to be aqueen, I will at least be a happy and beloved wife. If I am condemnedto live in obscurity and lowliness, at the very least, I must not beprohibited from adorning this obscure and inglorious existence withflowers, which thrive not at the foot of the throne, and to illuminateit with stars more sparkling than the refulgence of the most radiantkingly crown. "

"Oh, you are mistaken about your own self!" said John Heywood, sorrowfully. "You choose the one only because the other is denied. Youwould love only because you cannot rule; and since your heart, whichthirsts for fame and honor, can find no other satisfaction, you wouldquench its thirst with some other draught, and would administer love asan opiate to lull to rest its burning pains. Believe me, princess, youdo 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 ofmyrtle. Therefore, consider well what you do, princess! Be not carriedaway by your father's passionate blood, which boils in your veins also. Think well before you act. Your foot is yet on one of the steps to thethrone. Draw it not back voluntarily. Maintain your position; then, the next step brings you again one stair higher up. Do not voluntarilyrenounce your just claim, but abide in patience the coming of the day ofretribution and justice. Only do not yourself make it impossible, thatthere may then be a full and glorious reparation. PRINCESS Elizabeth mayyet one day be queen, provided she has not exchanged her name for oneless glorious and noble. "

"John Heywood, " said she, with a bewitching smile, "I have told you Ilove him. "

"Well, love him as much as you please, but do it in silence, and tellhim 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 inthe fire with smiling bravery and scorches them, because it knows notthat fire burns. "

"Let it burn, John, burn! and let the flames curl over my head! Betterbe consumed in fire than perish slowly and horribly with a deadly chill!I love him, I tell you, and he already knows it!"

"Well, then, love him, but, at least, do not marry him!" cried JohnHeywood, surlily. 

"Marry!" cried she, with astonishment. "Marry! I had never thought ofit. "

She dropped her head upon her breast, and stood there, silent andthoughtful. 

"I am much afraid I made a blunder, then!" muttered John Heywood. "Ihave suggested a new thought to her. Ah, ah, King Henry has done well inappointing me his fool! Just when we deem ourselves the wisest, we arethe greatest fools!"

"John, " said Elizabeth, as she raised her head again and smiled to himin a glow of excitement, "John, you are entirely right; if we love, wemust 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 aninterview. "

"An interview!" cried John Heywood, in amazement. "You will not be sofoolhardy as to keep your promise?"

"John Heywood, " said she, with an air of approaching solemnity, "KingHenry's daughter will never make a promise without fulfilling it. Forbetter or for worse, I will always keep my plighted word, even if thegreatest misery and ruin were the result!"

John Heywood ventured to offer no further opposition. There was at thismoment 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, " said Elizabeth;"and, John, I will confess it to you, my own heart longed for it. Seeknot, then, to shake my resolution; it is as firm as a rock. But if youare not willing to stand by me, say so, and I will then look aboutme for another friend, who loves me enough to impose silence on histhoughts. "

"But who, perhaps, will go and betray you. No, no, it has been onceresolved 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 thelarge wall pictures, I have discovered a door leading into a lonely, dark corridor. From this corridor there is a passage up into yondertower. It is unoccupied and deserted. Nobody ever thinks of enteringthat part of the castle, and the quiet of the grave reigns throughoutthose apartments, which nevertheless are furnished with a magnificencetruly 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; andwhile I was refusing my lover the interview for which he again and againimplored me, I was quietly preparing everything so as to be able oneday to grant it to him. Today this object is attained, and today haveI fulfilled his wish, voluntarily and unasked; for I saw he had no morecourage to ask again. Listen, then. From the tower, a spiral staircaseleads down to a small door, through which you gain entrance into thegarden. I have a key to this door. Here it is. Once in possession ofthis key, he has nothing further to do but remain behind in the parkthis evening, instead of leaving the castle; and by means of this hewill come to me, for I will wait for him in the tower, in the large roomdirectly opposite the staircase landing. Here, take the key; give it tohim, and repeat to him all that I have said. "

"Well, princess, there remains for you now only to appoint the hour atwhich you will receive him there. "

"The hour, " said she, as she turned away her blushing face. "Youunderstand, 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. "

"You will then receive him by night!" said John Heywood, sadly. "At whathour?"

"At midnight! And now you know all; and I beg you, John, hasten andcarry him my message; for, look, the sun is setting, and it will soon benight. "

She nodded to him with a smile, and turned to go. 

"Princess, you have forgotten the most important point. You have not yettold 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 that deserves tobe loved by a daughter of the king!"

"And the name of this single one is--"

"Thomas Seymour, Earl of Sudley!" whispered Elizabeth, as she turnedaway quickly and entered the castle. 

"Oh, Thomas Seymour!" said John Heywood, utterly astounded. As ifparalyzed with horror, he stood there motionless, staring up at the skyand repealing over and over, "Thomas Seymour! Thomas Seymour! So he isa sorcerer who administers a love-potion to all the women, and befoolsthem with his handsome, saucy face. Thomas Seymour! The queen loves him;the princess loves him; and then there is this Duchess of Richmond, whowill by all means be his wife! This much, however, is certain, he isa traitor who deceives both, because to both he has made the sameconfession of love. And there again is that imp, chance, which compelsme to be the confidant of both these women. But I will be well on myguard against executing both my commissions to this sorcerer. Let him atany rate become the husband of the princess; perhaps this would be thesurest means of freeing the queen from her unfortunate love. "

He was silent, and still gazed up thoughtfully at the sky. "Yes, " saidhe then, quite cheerfully, "thus shall it be. I will combat the onelove with the other. For the queen to love him, is dangerous. I willtherefore so conduct matters that she must hate him. I will remain herconfidant. I will receive her letters and her commissions, but I willburn her letters and not execute her commissions. I am not at liberty totell her that the faithless Thomas Seymour is false to her, for I havesolemnly pledged my word to the princess never to breathe her secret toany one; and I will and must keep my word. Smile and love, then; dreamon thy sweet dream of love, queen; I wake for thee; I will cause thedark cloud resting on thee to pass by. It may, perhaps, touch thineheart; but thy noble and beautiful head--that at least it shall not beallowed to crush; that--"

"Now, then, what are you staring up at the sky for, as if you read therea 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 sameattitude, gazing up steadily at the sky. He had very readily recognizedthe voice of him who had addressed him; he knew very well that he whostood near him was no other than the bold sorcerer whom he was just thencursing at the bottom of his heart; no other than Thomas Seymour, Earlof Sudley. 

"Say, John, is it really an epigram?" asked Thomas Seymour again. "Anepigram on the hypocritical, lustful, and sanctimonious priestly rabble, that with blasphemous hypocrisy fawn about the king, and are everwatchful 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 inthe clouds. I saw him mount, earl, and only think of the wonder--hehad in each talon a dove! Two doves for one hawk. Is not that toomuch--wholly contrary to law and nature?"

The earl cast on him a penetrating and distrustful look. But JohnHeywood, remaining perfectly calm and unembarrassed, continued lookingat the clouds. 

"How stupid such a brute is, and how much to his disadvantage will hisvery greediness be! For since he holds a dove in each claw, he will notbe able to enjoy either of them; because he has no claw at liberty withwhich to tear them. Soon as he wishes to enjoy the one, the other willescape; when he grabs after that, the other flies away; and so at lasthe will have nothing at all, because he was too rapacious and wantedmore than he could use. "

"And you are looking after this hawk in the skies? But you are perhapsmistaken, and he whom you seek is not above there at all, but herebelow, and perchance quite close to you?" asked Thomas Seymoursignificantly. 

But John Heywood would not understand him. 

"Nay, " said he, "he still flies, but it will not last long. For verilyI saw the owner of the dovecot from which the hawk has stolen the twodoves. He had a weapon; and he, be ye sure of it--he will kill thishawk, because he has robbed him of his pet doves. "

"Enough, enough!" cried the earl, impatiently. "You would give me alesson, but you must know I take no counsel from a fool, even were hethe wisest. "

"In that you are right, my lord, for only fools are so foolish asto hearken to the voice of wisdom. Besides, each man forges his ownfortune. And now, wise sir, I will give you a key, which you yourselfhave forged, and behind which lies your fortune. There, take this key;and if you at midnight slip through the garden to the tower over yonder, this key will open to you the door of the same, and you can thenwithout hesitation mount the spiral staircase and open the door which isopposite the staircase. Behind that you will find the fortune which youhave forged for yourself, sir blacksmith, and which will bid you welcomewith warm lips and soft arms. And so commending you to God, I musthasten home to think over the comedy which the king has commanded me towrite. "

"But you do not so much as tell me from whom this message comes?" saidEarl Sudley, retaining him. "You invite me to a meeting and give me akey, and I know not who will await me there in that tower. "

"Oh, you do not know? There is then more than one who might await youthere? Well, then, it is the youngest and smallest of the two doves whosends you the key. "

"Princess Elizabeth?"

"You have named her, not I!" said John Heywood, as he disengaged himselffrom the earl's grasp and hurried across the courtyard to betake himselfto his lodgings. 

Thomas Seymour watched him with a scowl, and then slowly directed hiseyes to the key that Heywood had given him. 

"The princess then awaits me, " whispered he, softly. "Ah, who canread it in the stars? who can know whither the crown will roll when ittumbles from King Henry's head? I love Catharine, but I love ambitionstill more; and if it is demanded, to ambition must I sacrifice myheart. "

CHAPTER XVII. GAMMER GUETON'S NEEDLE. 

Slowly and lost in gloomy thought, John Heywood walked toward hislodgings. These lodgings were situated in the second or inner court ofthe vast palace of Whitehall, in that wing of the castle which containedthe apartments of all the higher officers of the royal household, and sothose of the court-jesters also; for the king's fool was at that perioda very important and respectable personage, who occupied a rank equal tothat of a gentleman of the royal bed-chamber. 

John Heywood had just crossed this second courtyard, when all at onceloud, wrangling voices, and the clear, peculiar ring of a box on theear, startled him out of his meditations. He stopped and listened. Hisface, before so serious, had now reassumed its usual merry and shrewdexpression; his large eyes again glittered with humor and mischief. "There again verily is my sweet, charming housekeeper, Gammer Gurton, "said John Heywood, laughing; "and she no doubt is quarrelling again withmy excellent servant, that poor, long-legged, blear-eyed Hodge. Ah! ha!Yesterday I surprised her as she applied a kiss to him, at which he madeas doleful a face as if a bee had stung him. To-day I hear how she isboxing his ears. He is perhaps now laughing at it, and thinks it is arose-leaf which cools his cheek. That Hodge is such a queer bird! But wewill at once see what there is to-day, and what farce is being performednow. "

He crept softly up-stairs, and, opening the door of his room, closed itagain behind him quickly and gently. Gammer Gurton, who was in the roomadjoining, had heard nothing, seen nothing; and had the heavens cometumbling down at that moment, she would have scarcely noticed it; forshe had eyes and sense only for this long, lank lackey who stood beforeher shaking with fear, and staring at her out of his great bluish-whiteeyes. Her whole soul lay in her tongue; and her tongue ran as fast asa will-wheel, and with the force of thunder. How, then, could GammerGurton well have time and ears to hear her master, who had softlyentered his chamber and slyly crept to the door, only half closed, whichseparated his room from that of the housekeeper? "How!" screamed GammerGurtoh, "you silly raga muffin, you wish to make me believe that it wasthe cat that ran away with my sewing-needle, as if my sewing-needle werea mouse and smelt of bacon, you stupid, blear-eyed fool!"

"Ah, you call me a fool, " cried Hodge, with a laugh, which caused hismouth 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 aservant worthy of my master. And as to being blear-eyed, that must becaused by the simple fact that I have nothing all day long before myeyes but you, Gammer Gurton--you, with your face like a full moon--you, sailing through the room like a frigate, and with your grappling-irons, your hands, smashing to pieces everything except your ownlooking-glass. "

"You shall pay me for that, you double-faced, thread-bare lout!"screamed Gammer Gurton, as she rushed on Hodge with clenched fist. 

But John Heywood's cunning servant had anticipated this; he had alreadyslipped 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 extemporaryfortress, he gave her such a hearty pinch on the leg, that she sprangback with a scream, and sank, wholly overcome by the pain, into thehuge, leather-covered elbow-chair which was near her workstand at thewindow. 

"You are a monster, Hodge, " groaned she, exhausted--"a heartless, horrible monster. You have stolen my sewing-needle--you only. For youknew very well that it was my last one, and that, if I have not that, Imust go at once to the shopkeeper to buy some needles. And that is justwhat you want, you weathercock, you. You only want me to go out, thatyou may have an opportunity to play with Tib. "

"Tib? Who is Tib?" asked Hodge as he stretched out his long neckfrom under the table, and stared at Gammer Gurton with well-assumedastonishment. 

"Now this otter wants me yet to tell him who Tib is!" screamed theexasperated dame. "Well, then, I will tell you. Tib is the cook for themajor-domo over there--a black-eyed, false, coquettish little devil, whois bad and mean enough to troll away the lover of an honest and virtuouswoman, as I am; a lover who is such a pitiful little thing that onewould think no one but myself could find him out and see him; nor couldI have done it had I not for forty years trained my eyes to the search, and for forty years looked around for the man who was at length to marryme, and make me a respectable mistress. Since my eyes then were at laststeadily fixed on this phantom of man, and I found nothing there, Ifinally discovered you, you cobweb of a man!"

"What! you call me a cobweb?" screamed Hodge, as he crept from underthe table, and, drawing himself up to his full height, placed himselfthreateningly in front of Gammer Gurton's elbow-chair. "You call me acobweb? Now, I swear to you that you shall henceforth never more bethe spider that dwells in that web! For you are a garden-spider, anabominable, dumpy, old garden-spider, 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. She is a lovely, charming child of fourteen, asquick and nimble as a kid, with lips red as the coral which you wear onyour fat pudding of a neck, with eyes which shine yet brighter than yournose, and with a figure so slender and graceful that she might havebeen carved out of one of your fingers. Yes, yes, I know Tib. She is anaffectionate, good child, who would never be so hard-hearted as toabuse the man she loves, and could not be so mean and pitiful, even inthought, as to wish to marry the man she did not love. Just because heis a man. Yes, I know Tib, and now I will go straight to her and ask herif 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 themeagre, abominable stuff on which Gammer Gurton feeds him; a lad who, tobe sure, is blear-eyed, but will soon get over that disease when he nomore sees Gammer Gurton, who acts on his eyes like a stinking onion, andmakes them always red and running water. Good-by, old onion! I am goingto Tib. "

But Gammer Gurton whirled up out of her elbow-chair like a top, and wasupon Hodge, whom she held by the coat-tail, and brought him to a stand. 

"You dare go to Tib again! You dare pass that door and you shall seethat the gentle, peaceable, and patient Gammer Gurton is changed intoa lioness, when any one tries to tear from her that most sacred anddearest of treasures, her husband. For you are my husband, inasmuch as Ihave your word that you will marry me. "

"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 yourhusband. "

"That is an abominable, malicious lie!" screamed Gammer Gurton. "Agood-for-nothing lie, say I! For did you not long ago snivel and begtill I was forced to promise you to make a will, and in it declareHodge, my beloved husband, sole heir of all my goods and chattels, andbequeath to him everything I have scraped together in my virtuous andindustrious 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 dayI was going with you to a justice of the peace and have it signed, andthen to-morrow we would have got married. "

"You have made the will, you round world of love?" said Hodge tenderly, as with his long, withered, spindling arms he tried to clasp thegigantic waist of his beloved. "You have made the will and declared meyour heir? Come, then, Gammer Gurton, come, let us go to the justice ofthe peace!"

"But do you not see, then, " said Gammer Gurton, with a tender, cat-likepurr, "do you not see, then, that you rumple my frill when you hug meso? Let me go, then, and help me find my needle quickly, for without theneedle 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 capawhile 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 with such a hole in mycap! Search then, Hodge, search, so that I can mend my cap, and go withyou to the justice of the peace!"

"Lord God, where in the world can it be, the unlucky needle? I musthave it, I must find it, so that Gammer Gurton may take her will to thejustice of the peace!"

And in frantic desperation, Hodge searched all about on the floor forthe lost needle, and Gammer Gurton stuck her large spectacles on herflaming red nose and peered about on the table. So eager was she in thesearch, that she even let her tongue rest a little, and deep silencereigned in the room. 

Suddenly this silence was broken by a voice; which seemed to come fromthe courtyard. It was a soft, sweet voice that cried: "Hodge, dearHodge, are you there? Come to me in the court, only for a few minutes! Iwant to have a bit of a laugh with you!"

It was as though an electric shock had passed through the room with thatvoice, and struck at the same time both Gammer Gurton and Hodge. 

Both startled, and discontinuing the search, stood there whollyimmovable, as if petrified. Hodge especially, poor Hodge, was as ifstruck by lightning. His great bluish-white eyes appeared to be comingout of their sockets; his long arms hung down, flapping and danglingabout like a flail; his knees, half bent, seemed already to be givingway in expectation of the approaching storm. 

This storm did not in fact make him wait long. "That is Tib!" screamedGammer Gurton, springing like a lioness upon Hodge and seizing himby the shoulders with both her hands. "That is Tib, you thread-like, pitiful greyhound! Well, was I not right, now, when I called you afaithless, good-for-nothing scamp, that spares not innocence, and breaksthe hearts of the women as he would a cracker, which he swallows at hispleasure? Was I not right, in saying that you were only watching for meto go out in order to go and sport with Tib?"

"Hodge, my dear, darling Hodge, " cried the voice beneath there, and thistime louder and more tender than before, "Hodge, oh come, do now, comewith me in the court, as you promised me; come and get the kiss forwhich you begged me this morning!"

"I will be a damned otter, if I begged her for it, and if I understand asingle word of what she says!" said Hodge, wholly dumfounded and quakingall over. 

"Ah, you understand not a word of what she says?" screamed GammerGurton. "Well, but I understand it. I understand that everything betweenus 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 ahusband, 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 havetormented myself in vain; in vain have endured the horrible luck ofbeing loved by this old owl! Oh, oh, she will not make her will, andHodge will remain the same miserable dog he always was!"

Gammer Gurton laughed scornfully. "Ah, you are aware at last what apitiable wretch you are, and how much a noble and handsome person, as Iam, lowered herself when she made up her mind to pick up such a weed andmake him her husband. "

"Yes, yes, I know it!" whined Hodge; "and I pray you pick me up and takeme, and above all things make your will!"

"No, I will not take you, and I shall not make my will! It is all overwith, I tell you; and now you can go as soon as you please to Tib, whohas called you so lovingly. But first give me back my sewing-needle, youmagpie, you! Give me here my sewing-needle, which you have stolen. It isof no use to you now, for it is not necessary for me to go out in orderthat 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 Iwill hang you as a scarecrow in my pea-patch, to frighten the sparrowsout of it. My sewing-needle, or--"

She shook her clenched fist threateningly at Hodge, fully convinced thatnow, as always before, Hodge would retreat before this menacing weaponof his jealous and irritable lady-love, and seek safety under the bed orthe table. 

This time, however, she was mistaken. Hodge, who saw that all was lost, felt that his patience was at length exhausted; and his timidity wasnow changed to the madness of despair. The lamb was transformed intoa 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 sideswith equal animosity and equal vigor; only Hodge's bony hand made by farthe most telling blows on Gammer Gurton's mass of flesh, and was alwayscertain, wherever he struck, to hit some spot of this huge mass; whileGammer Gurton's soft hand seldom touched that thin, threadlike 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 at one another, but love eachother. "

"It is the master!" exclaimed Gammer Gurton, lowering her fist in theutmost contrition. 

"Do not turn me away, sir!" moaned Hodge; "do not dismiss me fromyour service because at last I have for once given the old hag a goodbruising. She has deserved it a long time, and an angel himself must atlast lose patience with her. "

"I turn you out of my service!" exclaimed John Heywood, as he wiped hiseyes, wet with laughing. "No, Hodge, you are a real jewel, a mine of funand merriment; and you two have, without knowing it, furnished me withthe choicest materials for a piece which, by the king's order, I haveto write within six days. I owe you, then, many thanks, and will showmy gratitude forthwith. Listen well to me, my amorous and tender pair ofturtle-doves, and mark what I have to say to you. One cannot always tellthe wolf by his hide, for he sometimes put on a sheep's skin; and so, too, a man cannot always be recognized by his voice, for he sometimesborrows that of his neighbor. Thus, for example, I know a certain JohnHeywood, who can mimic exactly the voice of a certain little missnamed Tib, and who knows how to warble as she herself: 'Hodge, my dearHodge!'" And he repeated to them exactly, and with the same tone andexpression, the words that the voice had previously cried. 

"Ah, it was you, sir?" cried Hodge, with a broad grin--"that Tib in thecourt 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 themidst of our lovers' quarrel, like a cannon-stroke! Ah, ha! Hodge, thatwas 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 withhis breath. No, no, my worthy and virtuous Gammer Gurton, it was not Tibwho called the handsome Hodge, and more than that, I saw Tib, as yourcontest began, go out at the courtyard gate. "

"It was not Tib!" exclaimed Gammer Gurton, much moved, and happy as lovecould make her. "It was not Tib, and she was not in the court atall, and Hodge could not then go down to her, while I went to theshopkeeper's to buy needles. Oh, Hodge, Hodge, will you forgive me forthis; will you forget the hard words which I spoke in the fury of myanguish, 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 itnot be so, my angel?"

"Yes, we go to the priest to-morrow!" growled Hodge, as with a frightfulgrimace he scratched himself behind the ears. 

"And now come, my angel, and give me a kiss of reconciliation!" Shespread her arms out, and when Houge did not come to her, but remainedimmovable, and steadfast in his position, she went to Hodge and pressedhim tenderly to her heart. 

Suddenly she uttered a shriek, and let go of Hodge, She had felt aterrible pain in her breast. It seemed as though a small dagger hadpierced her bosom. 

And there it was, the lost needle, and Hodge then was innocent and pureas the early dawn. 

He had not mischievously purloined the needle, so that Gammer Gurtonwould be compelled to leave her house in order to fetch some new needlesfrom the shopkeeper's; he had not intended to go to Tib, for Tib was notin 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 forgetful of theirmaster, who still stood near them, and looked on, laughing and noddinghis head. 

"Now, then, I have found the finest and most splendid materials for mypiece, " said John Heywood, as he left the loving pair and betook himselfto his own room. "Gammer Gurton has saved me, and King Henry will nothave the satisfaction of seeing me whipped by those most virtuous andmost 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 certainly a rich subjectfor a composition; but I can never in the world get an interlude out ofit! What shall I do with it? Abandon this subject altogether, and againjeer at the monks and ridicule the nuns? That is antiquated and wornout! I will write something new, something wholly new, and somethingwhich will make the king so merry, that he will not sign a death-warrantfor a whole day. Yes, yes, a merry play shall it be, and then I willcall 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 Heywood, fool toKing Henry the Eighth. [Footnote: This comedy was first printed in theyear 1661, but it was represented at Christ College fully a hundredyears previously. Who was the author of it is not known with certainty;but it is possible that the writer of it was John Heywood, theepigrammatist and court-jester. --See Dramaturgic oder Theorie undGeschichte der dramatischen Kunst, von Theodore Mundt, vol i, p. 809. Flogel's Geschichte der Hofnarren, p. 399. ]

CHAPTER XVIII. LADY JANE. 

All was quiet in the palace of Whitehall. Even the servants on guard inthe vestibule of the king's bedchamber had been a long time slumbering, for the king had been snoring for several hours; and this majesticalsound was, to the dwellers in the palace, the joyful announcement thatfor one fine night they were exempt from service, and might be free men. 

The queen also had long since retired to her apartments, and dismissedher ladies at an unusually early hour. She felt, she said, wearied bythe chase, and much needed rest. No one, therefore, was to disturb her, unless the king should order it. 

But the king, as we have said, slept, and the queen had no reason tofear that her night's rest would be disturbed. 

Deep silence reigned in the palace. The corridors were empty anddeserted, the apartments all silent. 

Suddenly a figure tripped along softly and cautiously through the longfeebly lighted corridor. She was wrapped in a black mantle; a veilconcealed her face. 

Scarcely touching the floor with her feet, she floated away, and glideddown a little staircase. Now she stops and listens. There is nothing tohear; all is noiseless and still. 

Then, on again. Now she wings her steps. For here she is sure of notbeing 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 shestops before a door leading into the summer-house. She puts her ear tothe 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, forgottenher pains and tears. He is there. She has him again. 

She throws open the door. It is dark indeed in the chamber, but she seeshim, for the eye of love pierces the night; and if the sees him not, yetshe feels his presence. 

She rests on his heart; he presses her closely to his breast. Leaningon each other, they grope cautiously along through the dark, desolatechamber to the divan at the upper end, and there, both locked in a happyembrace, they sink upon the cushion. 

"At last I have you again! and my arms again clasp this divine form, andagain my lips press this crimson mouth! Oh, my beloved, what an eternityhas this separation been! Six days! Six long nights of agony! Have younot 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 fallagain disconsolate and trembling with anguish, because they claspednothing--naught but the cold, vacant night breeze! Did you not hear, my beloved, how I cried to you with sighs and tears, how in glowingdithyrambics I poured forth to you my longing, my love, my rapture? Butyou, cruel you, remained ever cold, ever smiling. Your eyes were everflashing in all the pride and grandeur of a Juno. The roses on yourcheeks were not one whit the paler. No, no, you have not longed for me;your heart has not felt this painful, blissful anguish. You are firstand above all things the proud, cold queen, and next, next the lovingwoman. "

"How unjust and hard you are, my Henry!" whispered she softly. "I haveindeed suffered; and perhaps my pains have been more cruel and bitterthan yours, for I--I had to let them consume me within. You could pourthem forth, you could stretch out your arms after me, you could utterlamentations and sighs. You were not, like me, condemned to laugh, andto jest, and to listen with apparently attentive ear to all those oftenheard and constantly repeated phrases of praise and adoration from thoseabout me. You were at least free to suffer. I was not. It is true Ismiled, but amidst the pains of death. It is true my cheeks did notblanch, but rouge was the veil with which I covered their paleness; andthen, Henry, in the midst of my pains and longings, I had, too, a sweetconsolation--your letters, your poems, which fell like the dew of heavenupon my sick soul, and restored it to health, for new torments and newhopes. Oh, how I love them--those poems, in whose noble and enchantinglanguage your love and our sufferings are reechoed! How my whole soulflew forth to meet them when I received them, and how pressed I mylips thousands and thousands of times on the paper which seemed to meredolent with your breath and your sighs! How I love that good, faithfulJane, the silent messenger of our love! When I behold her entering mychamber, with the unsullied paper in hand, she is to me the dove withthe olive-leaf, that brings me peace and happiness, and I rush to her, and press her to my bosom; and give her all the kisses I would give you, and feel how poor and powerless I am, because I cannot repay her all thehappiness that she brings me. Ah, Henry, how many thanks do we owe topoor Jane!"

"Why do you call her poor, when she can be near you, always behold yon, always hear you?"

"I call her poor, because she is unhappy. For she loves, Henry--sheloves to desperation, to madness, and she is not loved. She is piningaway with grief and pain, and wrings her hands in boundless woe. Haveyou not noticed how pale she is, and how her eyes become daily moredim?"

"No, I have not seen it, for I see naught but you, and Lady Jane is tome a lifeless image, as are all other women. But what! You tremble; andyour whole frame writhes in my arms, as if in a convulsion! And what isthat? Are you weeping?"

"Oh, I weep, because I am so happy. I weep, because I was thinking howfearful the suffering must be, to give the whole heart away, and receivenothing in return, naught but death! Poor Jane!"

"What is she to us? We, we love each other. Come, dear one, let me kissthe tears from your eyes; let me drink this nectar, that it may inspireme, and transfigure me to a god! Weep no more--no, weep not; or, if youwill do so, be it only in the excess of rapture, and because word andheart are too poor to hold all this bliss!"

"Yes, yes, let us shout for joy; let us be lost in blessedness!"exclaimed she passionately, as with frantic violence she threw herselfon 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 aheavenly lullaby to the lovers! how inquisitively the pale crescent moonpeeps through the window, as though she were seeking the twain whoseblessed confidante she is!

But happiness is so swift-winged, and time flies so fast, when love istheir companion!

Even now they must part again--now they must again say farewell. "Notyet, beloved, stay yet! See, the night is still dark; and hark, thecastle clock is just striking two. No, go not yet. "

"I must, Henry, I must; the hours are past in which I can be happy. "

"Oh, you cold, proud soul! Does the head already long again for thecrown; and can you wait no longer for the purple to again cover yourshoulders? Come, let me kiss your shoulder; and think now, dear, that mycrimson 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 callyou?--you whose name I may not utter! Oh, do you know that it is cruelnever to name the name of the loved one? Withdraw that prohibition;grudge me not the painfully sweet pleasure of being able at least tocall you by your name!"

"No, " said she, with a shudder; "for know you not that the sleep-walkersawake out of their dreams when they are called by name? I am asomnambulist, who, with smiling courage, moves along a dizzy height;call me by name, and I shall awake, and, shuddering, plunge into theabyss beneath. Ah, Henry, I hate my name, for it is pronounced by otherlips 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 youbefore 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 kinghimself, shall be able to forbid me. "

"Hush!" said she, with a shudder, "speak not of him! Oh, I conjure you, my Henry, be cautious; think that you have sworn to me ever to think ofthe danger that threatens us, and will, without doubt, dash us in piecesif you, by only a sound, a look, or a smile, betray the sweet secretthat unites us two. Are you still aware what you have sworn to me?"

"I am aware of it! But it is an unnatural Draconian law. What! even whenI am alone with you, shall I never be allowed to address you otherwisethan with that reverence and restrain which is due the queen? Even whenno one can hear us, may I, by no syllable, by none, not the slightestintimation, remind you of our love?"

"No, no, do it not; for this castle has everywhere eyes and ears, andeverywhere are spies and listeners behind the tapestry; behind thecurtains; everywhere are they concealed and lurking, watching everyfeature, every smile, every word, whether it may not afford ground forsuspicion. No, no, Henry; swear to me by our love that you will never, unless here in this room, address me otherwise than your queen. Swearto me that, beyond these walls, you will be to me only the respectfulservant 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 thegentlest pressure of the hand, betray what beyond this room is a crimefor both of us. Let this room be the temple of our love; but when weonce pass its threshold, we will not profane the sweet mysteries of ourhappiness, 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; "although I mustconfess that this dreadful illusion often tortures me almost to death. Oh, Geraldine, when I meet you elsewhere, when I observe the eye so icyand immovable, with which you meet my look, I feel as it were my heartconvulsed; and I say to myself: 'This is not she, whom I love--not thetender, passionate woman, whom in the darkness of the night I sometimeslock in my arms. This is Catharine, the queen, but not my loved one. Awoman cannot so disguise herself; art goes not so far as to falsify theentire nature, the innermost being and life of a person. ' Oh, there havebeen hours, awful, horrible hours, when it seemed to me as though allthis were a delusion, a mystification--as though in some way an evildemon assumed the queen's form by night to mock me, poor frenziedvisionary, with a happiness that has no existence, but lives only in myimagination. When such thoughts come to me, I feel a frenzied fury, acrushing despair, and I could, regardless of my oath and even the dangerthat threatens you, rush to you, and, before all the courtly rabble andthe king himself, ask: 'Are you really what you seem? Are you, CatharineParr, King Henry's wife--nothing more, nothing else than that? Or areyou, my beloved, the woman who is mine in her every thought, her everybreath; who has vowed to me eternal love and unchanging truth; and whomI, in spite of the whole world, and the king, press to my heart as myown?'"

"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 wouldlonger dare separate us, and your eyes would no longer look so cold andstrangely upon me, as they often now do. Oh, I conjure you, gaze notupon 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 mewith averted 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 themto see that I am wholly indifferent to you; that I am to you nothingmore 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 sheloves nothing but you? Say, will you then believe me?"

"I will believe you! But no, there is no need of any sign, or anyassurance. Nay, I know it; I feel indeed the sweet reality that cuddlesto my side, warm, and filling me with happiness; and it is only theexcess of happiness that makes me incredulous. "

"I will convince you thoroughly; and you shall doubt no more, not evenin the intoxication of happiness. Listen, then. The king, as you know, is about to hold a great tournament and festival of the poets, and itwill 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 Iwear on my shoulder, and in the silver fringe of which you will find anote from me. Will that satisfy you, my Henry?"

"And do you still question it, my dear? Do you question it, when youwill make me proud and happy above all others of your court?"

He pressed her closely to his heart and kissed her. But suddenly shewrithed in his arms, and started up in wild alarm. 

"Day is breaking, day is breaking! See there! a red streak is spreadingover the clouds. The sun is coming; day is coming, and already begins todawn. "

He endeavored to detain her still; but she tore herself passionatelyaway, and again enveloped her head in her veil. 

"Yes, " said he, "day is breaking and it is growing light! Let me then, for a moment at least, see your face. My soul thirsts for it as theparched earth for the dew. Come, it is light here at the window. Let mesee your eyes. "

She tore herself vehemently away. "No, no, you must be gone! Hark, it isalready three o'clock. Soon everything will be astir in the castle. Didit not seem as if some person passed by the door here? Haste, haste, ifyou do not wish me to die of dread!" She threw his cloak over him; shedrew his hat over his brow; then once more she threw her arms aroundhis neck and pressed on his lips a burning kiss. "Farewell, my beloved!farewell, Henry Howard! When we see each other again to-day, you are theEarl of Surrey, and I, the queen--not your loved one--not the woman wholoves you! Happiness is past, and suffering awakes anew. Farewell. "

She herself opened the glass door, and pushed her lover out. 

"Farewell, Geraldine; good-night, my dear! Day comes, and I again greetyou as my queen, and I shall have to endure again the torture of yourcold 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, wholly overcome by heragony, she sank down on her knees weeping and wailing, wringing herhands, and raising them to God. 

But just before so happy and joyful, she was now full of woe andanguish; and bitter sighs of complaint came trembling from her lips. 

"Oh, oh, " moaned she, with sobs; "what terrible agonies are these, andhow full of despair the anguish that lacerates my breast! I have lain inhis arms; I have received his vows of love and accepted his kisses; andthese vows are not mine, and these kisses he gave not to me. He kissedme, and he loves in me only her whom I hate. He lays his hands in mineand utters vows of love which he dedicates to her. He thinks and feelsfor her only--her alone. What a terrible torture this is! To be lovedunder her name; under her name to receive the vows of love that yetbelong to me only--to me alone! For he loves me, me exclusively. They are my lips that he kisses, my form that he embraces; to me areaddressed his words and his letters; and it is I that reply to them. Heloves me, me only, and yet he puts no faith in me. I am nothing to him, naught but a lifeless image, like other women. This he has told me; andI did not become frenzied; and I had the cruel energy to pass off thetears wrung from me by despair, for tears of rapture. Oh, detestable, 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 fistsmote upon her breast, and wept and moaned aloud. 

She heard naught; she saw naught; she felt naught but her inexpressibleand despairing anguish. 

She did not once tremble for herself; she thought not at all ofthis--that she would be lost if she were found in this place. 

And yet at the other side of the room a door had opened, softly andnoiselessly, and a man had entered. 

He shut the door behind him and walked up to Lady Jane, who still layon the floor. He stood behind her while she uttered her despairinglamentation. He heard every word of her quivering lips; her whole heartpainfully convulsed and torn with grief lay unveiled before him; and sheknew 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 asword, and her sobbing was immediately silenced. 

An awful pause ensued. The woman lay on the floor motionless, breathless, and near her, tall and cold as a figure of bronze, stood theman. 

"Lady Jane Douglas, " said he then, sternly and solemnly, "stand up. Itbecomes not your father's daughter to be upon her knees, when it is notGod to whom she kneels. But you are not kneeling to God, but to an idol, which you yourself have made, and to which you hate erected a temple inyour heart. This idol is called 'Your own personal misfortune. ' But itis written, 'Thou shalt have no other Gods but me. ' Therefore I say toyou once more, Lady Jane Douglas, rise from your knees, for it is notyour God to whom you kneel. "

And as though these words exercised a magnetic power over her, sheraised herself up slowly from the floor, and now stood there before herfather, stern and cold as a statue of marble. 

"Cast from you the sorrows of this world, which burden you, and hinderyou in the sacred work which God has imposed on you!" continued EarlDouglas 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, ' saithour God. But you, Jane, you are to throw down your trouble at the footof the throne; and your burden will become a crown that will glorifyyour head. "

He laid his hand on her head, but she wildly shook it off. 

"No, " cried she, with heavy, faltering tongue, as if confused in adream. "Away with this crown! I wish no crown upon which devils havelaid a spell. I wish no royal robe that has been dyed crimson with theblood of my beloved. "

"She is still in the delirium of her anguish, " muttered the earl, ashe contemplated the pale, trembling woman who had now sunk again toher knees, and was staring straight before her with eyes bewilderedand stretched wide open. But the looks of the earl remained cold andunmoved, and not the least compassion was aroused in him for his poordaughter, 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, withglad heart and a sense of your reliance on God; that is to say, withsmiling lips and a serene, beaming eye, as becomes a disciple inspiredby faith, and as you have sworn to do in the hands of our lord andmaster, Ignatius Loyola. "

"I cannot! I cannot!" moaned she, in a low tone. "I cannot be glad atheart when despair, like a wild boar, is rending my heart; I cannotcommand 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 Iam your daughter--the daughter of a wife whom you loved, and who wouldfind in the grave no rest if she knew how you are racking and torturingme. 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 loveinto the heart of this cruel father, who is ready to sacrifice his childon the altar of his God. "

"God has called me, " said the earl, "and, like Abraham, I too will learnto obey. But I will not adorn my victim with flowers, but with a royalcrown. I will not plunge a knife into her breast, but will put a goldensceptre into her hand and say: Thou art a queen before men, but beforeGod be thou a faithful and obedient servant. Thou hast all to command. But the holy Church, to whose service thou hast consecrated thyself, andwho will bless thee if thou art faithful, who will dash thee in pieceswith her curse if thou darest deal treacherously, she commands thee. No, you are not my daughter, but the priestess of the Church, consecratedto her holy service. No, I have no sympathy with your tear's and thisanguish, for I see the end of these sorrows, and I know that these tearswill be as a diadem of pearls about your temples. Lady Jane Douglas, itis 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 youhave sworn obedience and fidelity unto your life's end. "

"Then kill me, my father!" said she, feebly. "Let this life end, whichis but a torture, a protracted martyrdom. Punish me for my disobedienceby plunging your dagger deep into my breast. Punish me, and grudge menot the repose of the grave. "

"Poor enthusiast!" said the father; "suppose you, we would be foolishenough to subject you to so light a punishment! No, no, if you dare, ininsolent disobedience, rebel against my commands, your penance shall bea terrible one, and your punishment without end. I will not kill you, but him whom you love; it will be his head that falls; and you will behis murderess. He shall die on the scaffold and you--you shall live indisgrace. "

"Oh, horrible!" groaned Jane, as she buried her face in her hands. 

Her father continued: "Silly, short-sighted child, who thought she couldplay with the sword, and did not see that she herself might feel thestroke of this double-edged blade! You wanted to be the servant of theChurch, that you might thereby become mistress of the world. You wouldacquire glory, but this glory must not singe your head with its fieryrays. Silly child! he who plays with fire will be consumed. But wepenetrated your thoughts and the wish of which you yourself wereunconscious. We looked into the depths of your being, and when we foundlove 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 youto love? Have we not authorized you to give yourself entirely up to thislove? Do you not call yourself Earl Surrey's wife, though you cannotname to me the priest that married you? Lady Jane, obey, and we envy younot the happiness of your love; dare to rebel against us, and disgraceand shame overtake you, and you shall stand before all the worlddisowned 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. Nay, I submit, I obey! You are right, I cannot draw back. "

"And why would you either? Is it not a life pleasant and full ofenjoyment? Is it not rare good fortune to see our sins transfigured tovirtue; to be able to account earthly enjoyment the service of Heaven?And what do you bewail then? That he does not love you? Nay, he doeslove you; his vows of love still echo in your ears; your heart stilltrembles with the fruition of happiness. What matters it if the Earl ofSurrey with his inward eyes sees the woman he folds in his arms to beanother than you? Yet in reality he loves but you alone. Whether you arefor him named Catharine Parr or Jane Douglas, it is all the same if youonly are his love. "

"But a day will come when he will discover his mistake, and when he willcurse me. "

"That day will never come. The holy Church will find a way to avertthat, if you bow to her will and are obedient to her. "

"I do bow to it!" sighed Jane. "I will obey; only promise 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 fulfilpunctually the work I commit to you. First of all, then, tell me theresult of your meeting to-day. He does not doubt that you are thequeen?"

"No, he believes it so firmly that he would take the sacrament on it. That is to say, he believes it now because I have promised him to givehim publicly a sign by which he may recognize that it is the queen thatloves him. "

"And this sign?" inquired her father, with a look beaming with joy. 

"I have promised him that at the great tournament, the queen will givehim a rosette, and that in that rosette be will find a note from thequeen. "

"Ah, the idea is an admirable one!" exclaimed Lord Douglas, "and onlya woman who wishes to avenge herself could conceive it. So, then, thequeen will become her own accuser, and herself give into our handsa proof of her guilt. The only difficulty in the way is to bring thequeen, without arousing her suspicion, to wear this rosette, and to giveit to Surrey. "

"She will do it if I beg her to do so, for she loves me; and I shallso 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 goodcare not to do this myself, for it is always dangerous to approach ahungry tiger in his cage and carry him his food, because he might in hisvoracity very readily devour our own hand together with the profferedmeat. "

"But how?" asked she with an expression of alarm. "Will he contenthimself with punishing Catharine alone; will he not also crush him--himwhom he must look upon as her lover?"

"He will do so. But you yourself shall save him and set him free. Youshall 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 that you are playing; and itmay 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 ownhands; if you make me his murderess, you become thereby mine; and I willcurse you and execrate you in hell! What to me is a royal crown if it isstained 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 notreflect back to me the light of my crown? Protect him, therefore; guardhis life as the apple of your eye, if you wish me to accept the royalcrown that you offer me, so that the King of England may become again avassal 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 therebellious and recreant son of the Church, Henry the Eighth, back to theHoly Father in Rome, to the only consecrated lord of the Church, trulypenitent. On, on, my daughter; do not despond. A high aim beckons you, and a brilliant fortune awaits you! Our holy mother, the Church, willbless and praise you, and Henry the Eighth will declare you his queen. "

CHAPTER XX. THE PRISONER. 

Still all was calm and quiet in the palace of Whitehall. Nothing wasstirring, and nobody had heard how Lady Jane Douglas left her chamberand glided down the corridor. 

No one has heard it, and no eye is awake, and none sees what is nowtaking place in the queen's room. She is alone--all alone. The servantsare all asleep in their chambers. The queen herself has bolted the doorsof the anteroom on the inside, and no other door leads into her boudoirand bedroom, except through this anteroom. She is therefore perfectlysecluded, 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 whichcompletely covers and conceals her form. 

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 canquite conveniently pass out. 

Catharine does so. Then she carefully pushes the picture back to itsplace from the outside, and for a long time walks on in the passagehollowed out of the solid wall, till groping along she at last layshold again of a knob in the wall. She presses on it; and now at herfeet opens a trap-door, through which a feeble light forces its wayand renders visible a small narrow staircase there situated. Catharineenters and descends the steps with winged feet. Now at the foot of thestaircase she again presses on a secret spring; and again a door opens, through which the queen passes into a large hall. 

"Oh, " whispered she, fetching a long breath, "the green summer house atlast. "

She quickly traversed it and opened the next door. 

"John Heywood?"

"I am here, queen!"

"Hush, hush! gently as possible, that the watch, who walks up anddown just behind the door, may not hear us. Come, we still have a longwalk--let us make haste. "

Again she pressed on a spring inserted in the wall; and again a dooropens. But before Catharine bolts this door, she takes the lamp burningon the table there, which is to lighten the dark and difficult paththrough which they are now to wend their way. 

Now she bolts the door behind them; and they enter a long, darkcorridor, at the end of which is found still another staircase, and downwhich they both go. Numberless steps conduct them below; gradually theair becomes dense, the steps moist. The stillness of the grave is aroundthem. No sound of life, not the least noise, is now perceptible. 

They are in a subterranean passage, which stretches out in length beforethem farther than the eye can reach. Catharine turns to John Heywood;the lamp lights up her face, which is pale, but exhibits an expressionfirm 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 thiscourage for your queen?"

"No, not for the queen, but for the noble woman who has saved my son. "

"You must then be my protector to-day if we meet with dangers. But if itbe God's will, we shall encounter no dangers. Let us go. "

They go vigorously forward, silent all the way. At length they come toa place where the passage grows broader, and spreads out into a littleopen chamber, on the side walls of which a few teats are placed. 

"We have now accomplished half of the journey, " said Catharine; "andhere we will rest a little. "

She placed the lamp on the small marble table in the middle of thepassage, and sat down, pointing to John Heywood to take a seat near her. 

"I am not the queen, here, " said she; "and you are not the king'sfool; 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 returnthanks to thee. "

"John, are you acquainted with this subterranean passage?" asked thequeen. 

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 ofEngland and the fool are twin brothers. Yes, queen, I know this passage;and I once wended it in anguish and tears. "

"What! You yourself, John Heywood?"

"Yes, queen. And now I ask you, do you know the history of thisunderground passage? You are silent. Now, well for you that you do notknow it. It is a long and bloody history, and if I should narrate to youthe whole of it, the night would be too short for it. When this passagewas built, Henry was still young, and possessed yet a heart. At thattime, he loved not merely his wives, but his friends and servantsalso--specially Cromwell, the all-powerful minister. He then resided atWhitehall, and Henry in the royal apartments of the Tower. But Henry wasalways longing for his favorite; and so Cromwell one day surprised himwith this subterranean passage, the construction of which had occupied ahundred men a whole year. Ah, ah, the king was then very much moved, and thanked his powerful minister for this surprise with tears and hugs. There passed scarcely a day that Henry did not go to Cromwell throughthis passage. So he saw each day how the palace of Whitehall became moreand more splendid and glorious; and when he returned to the Tower, hediscovered that this residence was altogether unworthy of a king; butthat his minister lived by far more magnificently than the King ofEngland. That, queen, was the cause of Cromwell's fall! The king wantedWhitehall. The sly Cromwell noticed it, and made him a present of hisgem, the palace on whose construction and decoration he had laboredten years. Henry accepted the present; but now Cromwell's fall wasirrevocable. The king could not, of course, forgive Cromwell for havingdared to offer him a present so valuable, that Henry could not or wouldnot repay it. He remained, therefore, Cromwell's debtor; and since thistormented and vexed him, he swore Cromwell's ruin. When Henry moved intoWhitehall, it was concluded that Cromwell must ascend the scaffold. Ah, the king is such an economical builder! A palace costs him nothing butthe head of a subject. With Cromwell's bead be paid for Whitehall; andWolsey 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 allits treasures, presented him by Wolsey; then he removed him from all hisoffices, and deprived him of all his honors. Finally, he was to go tothe Tower as a prisoner; but he died on his way thither. No, you areright! Wolsey did not die on the scaffold, he was put to death much moreslowly and more cruelly. He was not killed with the sword, but prickedto 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 thetruest of friends, Thomas More! I begged and besought Cromwell so longthat he had compassion on my anguish, and allowed me to go through thispassage to Thomas More, that I might at least receive the blessing andlast kiss of affection of this saint. Ah, queen, speak no more of itto me! From that day I became a fool; for I saw it was not worth thetrouble to be an honest man, when such men as More are executed ascriminals. Come, queen, let us go on!"

"Yes, on, John!" said she, rising. "But do you know then whither we aregoing?"

"Ah, queen, do I not then know you? and did I not tell you that AnneAskew is to be stretched upon the rack to-morrow, unless she recant?"

"I see that you have understood me, " said she, giving him a friendlynod. "Yes, I am going to Anne Askew. "

"But how will you, without being seen and discovered, find out hercell?"

"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 inwhich 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 ownthoughts to interrupt them by conversation. 

But this long, extended walk at length wearied Catharine. She leanedexhausted against the wall. 

"Will you do me a favor, queen?" asked John Heywood. "Permit me to carryyou. Your little feet can bear you no farther; make me your feet, yourmajesty!"

She refused with a friendly smile. "No, John, these are thepassion-stations of a saint; and you know one must make the round ofthem in the sweat of his face, and on his knees. "

"Oh, queen, how noble and how courageous you are!" exclaimed JohnHeywood. "You do good without display, and you shun no danger, if itavails toward the accomplishment of noble work. "

"Yet, John, " said she, with a bewitching smile, "I dread danger; andjust on that account I begged you to accompany me. I shudder at thelong, desolate way, at the darkness and grave-like stillness of thispassage. Ah, John, I thought to myself, if I came here alone, the shadesof Anne Boleyn and Catharine would be roused from their sleep by me whowear their crown; they would hover about me, and seize me by the handand lead me to their graves, to show me that there is yet room therefor me likewise. You see, then, that I am not at all courageous, but acowardly and trembling woman. "

"And nevertheless, you came, queen. "

"I reckoned on you, John Heywood. It was my duty to risk this passage, to save, perchance, the life of the poor enthusiastic girl. For it shallnot be said that Catharine deserts her friends in misfortune, and thatshe shrinks back at danger. I am but a poor, weak woman, John, whocannot defend her friends with weapons, and, therefore, I must resort toother means. But see, John, here the path forks! Ah, my God! I know itonly from the description that was given me, but no one said anything ofthis to me. John, which way must we now turn?"

"This way, queen; and here we are at the end of our journey. That paththere leads to the torture-chamber, that is to say, to a small gratedwindow, through which one can overlook that room. When King Henry was inspecial good-humor, he would resort with his friend to this grating todivert himself a little with the tortures of the damned and blasphemers. For you well know, queen, only such as have blasphemed God, or have notrecognized King Henry as the pope of their Church, have the honor of therack as their clue. But hush! here we are at the door, and here is thespring 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, likeshades, the two entered. 

They now found themselves in a small, circular apartment, which seemedto have been originally a niche formed in the wall of the Tower, ratherthan a room. Through a narrow grated opening in the wall only a littleair and light penetrated into this dungeon, the bald, bare walls ofwhich showed the stones of the masonry. There was no chair, no table inthe whole space; only yonder in that corner on the earth they had heapedup some straw. On this straw lay a pale, tender creature; the sunken, thin cheeks, transparently white as alabaster; the brow so pure andclear; the entire countenance so peaceful; the bare, meagre arms thrownback over the head; the hands folded over the forehead, the head bent toone side in quiet, peaceful slumber; the delicate, tender form wrappedin 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 wasan atheist only for this, because she did not believe in the king's vastelevation and godlikeness, and would not subject her own free soul tothat of the king. 

"She sleeps, " whispered Catharine, deeply mored, Wholly involuntarilyshe folded her hands as she stepped to the couch of the sufferer, and alow prayer trembled on her lips. 

"So sleep the gust!" said Hey wood. "Angels comfort them in theirslumbers; and the breath of God refreshes them. Poor girl; how soon, andthey will wrench these noble, fair limbs, and torture thee for the honorof God, and open to tones of distress that mouth which now smiles sopeacefully!"

"No, no, " said the queen, hastily. "I have come to save her, and Godwill assist me to do it. I cannot spare her slumbers any longer. I mustwake her. "

She bent down and pressed a kiss on the young girl's forehead. "Anne, awake; I am here! I will save you and set you free. Anne, Anne, awake!"

She slowly raised her large, brilliant eyes, and nodded a salutation toCatharine. 

"Catharine Parr!" said she, with a smile. "I expected only a letter fromyou; and have you come yourself?"

"The guards have been dismissed, and the turnkeys changed, Anne; for ourcorrespondence had been discovered. "

"Ah, you will write to me no more in future! And yet your letters weremy only comfort, " sighed Anne Askew. "But that also is well; and perhapsit will only make the path that I have to tread still easier. The heartmay move its pinions freely and easily, and return to God. "

"Hear me, Anne, hear, " said Catharine in a low and hurried voice. "Aterrible danger threatens you! The king has given orders to move you, bymeans 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 whatfearful agonies await you! You know not the power of pains, which areperhaps 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 bearit, for I have no power to change their will. "

"Yet, Anne, yet you have the power! Retract what you have said, Anne!Declare that you repent, and that you perceive that you have beendeluded! Say that you will recognize the king as lord of the Church;that you will swear to the six articles, and never believe in the Popeof Rome. Ah, Anne, God sees your heart and knows your thoughts. You haveno need to make them known by your lips. He has given you life, and youhave no right to throw it away; you must seek to keep it so long as youcan. Recant, then! It is perfectly allowable to deceive those whowould murder us. Recant, then, Anne, recant! When they in their haughtyarrogance demand of you to say what they say, consider them as lunatics, to whom you make apparent concessions only to keep them from raving. Ofwhat consequence is it whether you do or do not say that the king is thehead of the Church? From His heavens above, God looks down and smilesat this petty earthly strife which concerns not Him, but men only. Letscholars 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 whichwe do it is a matter of indifference. But in this case the question isnot about God, but merely about external dogmas. Why should you troubleyourself with these? What have you to do with the controversies of thepriests? 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 shotlightning, and a contemptuous smile was on her lips. 

"What! Can you thus advise me?" said she. "Can you wish me to deny myfaith, and abjure my God, only to escape earthly pain? And your tonguedoes not refuse to utter this, and your heart does not shrink with shamewhile you do it? Look at these arms; what are they worth that I shouldnot sacrifice them to God? See these feeble limbs! Are they so preciousthat I, like a disgusting niggard, should spare them? No, no, God is myhighest good--not this feeble, decaying body! For God I sacrifice it. I should recant? Never! Faith is not enveloped in this or that garb; itmust be naked and open. So may mine be. And if I then am chosen to bean example of pure faith, that denies not, and makes profession--well, then, envy me not this preeminence. 'Many are called, but few arechosen. ' If I am one of the chosen, I thank God for it, and bless theerring mortals who wish to make me such by means of the torture of therack. Ah, believe me, Catharine, I rejoice to die, for it is such a sad, desolate, and desperate thing to live. Let me die, Catharine--die, toenter into blessedness!"

"But, poor, pitiable child! this is more than death; it is the tortureof earth that threatens you. Oh, bethink you, Anne, that you are onlya feeble woman. Who knows whether the rack may not yet conquer yourspirit, and whether you, with your mangled limbs, may not by the furyof the pain yet be brought to that point that you will recant and abjureyour faith?"

"If I could do that, " cried Anne Askew, with flashing eyes, "believeme, queen, as soon as I came to my senses I would lay violent handson myself, in order to give myself over to eternal damnation, as thepunishment of my recantation! God has ordered that I shall be a sign ofthe 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! Icannot bear--I cannot think of it--that this dear noble form shouldbe sacrificed to a vile delusion of man; that they will torture to thehonor of God a noble likeness of the same God! Oh, come, come, Iwill save you! I, the queen! Give me your hand. Follow me out of thisdungeon. I know a path that leads out of this place; and I will concealyou so long in my own apartments that you can continue your flightwithout 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; envyme not, then, a share in your noble work also. Not with you shall AnneAskew find refuge, but with me. Oh, come, Anne, follow your friends. Itis life that calls you, that opens the doors to you, and desires to callyou by a thousand names to itself! Do you not hear them, all those sweetand alluring voices; do you not see them, all those noble and smilingfaces, how they greet you and beckon to you? Anne Askew, it is the noblehusband that calls you! You know him not as yet, but he is waiting foryou there in the world without. Anne Askew, there are your children, who are stretching their tender arms out to you. You have not yet bornethem; but love holds them in her arms, and will bring them to meet you. It is the wife and the mother that 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 hersubject. Follow the friend, who has sworn that he will watch over youand protect you as a father!"

"Father in heaven, protect me!" exclaimed Anne Askew, falling on herknees and stretching her hands upward. "Father in heaven! they wouldtear away Thy child, and alienate my heart from Thee! They are leadingme into temptation and alluring me with their words. Protect me, myFather; make my ear deaf, that I may not hear them! Give me a sign thatI am Thine; that no one has any longer power over me, save Thou alone! Asign, that Thou, Father, callest me!"

And as if God had really heard her prayer, a loud knocking was nowperceived at the outer door, and a voice cried: "Anne Askew, awake! andhold yourself ready! The high chancellor and the Bishop of Winchestercome to fetch you away!"

"Ah, the rack!" groaned Catharine, as with a shudder she buried her facein her hands. 

"Yes, the rack!" said Anne, with a blissful smile. "God calls me!"

John Heywood had approached the queen and impetuously seized her hand. "You see it is in vain, " said he, urgently. "Make haste then to saveyourself! Hasten to leave this prison before the door there opens. "

"No, " said Catharine, firmly and resolutely. "No, I stay. She shall notsurpass 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 castmy eyes to the ground before this young girl; like her, I will franklyand openly profess my faith; like her I will say: 'God alone is Lord ofhis Church, ' God--"

There was a movement without; a key was heard to turn in the lock. 

"Queen, I conjure you, " besought John Heywood, "by all that is holy toyou, by your love, come, come!"

"No, no!" cried she, vehemently. 

But now Anne seized her hand, and stretching the other arm towardheaven, she said in a loud, commanding voice: "In the name of God, Iorder you to leave me!"

While Catharine drew back wholly involuntarily, John Heywood pushed herto the secret door, and urging her out almost with violence, he drew thedoor to behind them both. 

Just as the secret door had closed, the other on the opposite sideopened. "With whom were you speaking?" asked Gardiner, peering aroundthe room with a sharp look. 

"With the tempter, that wished to alienate me from God, " said she--"withthe tempter, who at the approach of your footsteps wanted to fool myheart 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 thetorture-chamber!" cried Chancellor Wriothesley, as he advanced and laidhis heavy hand on Anne's shoulder. "You would not hear the voice of lovewarning you and calling you, so we will now try to arouse you fromyour madness by the voice of wrath and damnation. " He beckoned to theattendants on the rack, who stood behind him in the open door, andordered them to seize her and carry her to the torture-chamber. 

Anne, smiling, turned them back. "Nay, not so!" said she. "The Saviourwent on foot, and bore His cross to the place of execution. I will treadHis path. Show me the way, I follow you. But let no one dare touch me. Iwill show you that not by constraint, but gladly and freely, I tread thepath of suffering, which I shall endure for the sake of my God. Rejoice, oh my soul!--sing, my lips! for the bridegroom is near, and the feast isabout to begin. "

And in exultant tones Anne Askew began to sing a hymn, that had not diedaway when she entered the torture-chamber. 

CHAPTER XXI. PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 

The king sleeps. Let him sleep! He is old and infirm, and Godhas severely punished the restless tyrant with a vacillating, ever-disquieted, never-satisfied spirit, while He bound his body andmade the spirit prisoner of the body; while He made the ambitious king, struggling for the infinite, a slave to his own flesh. How high soeverhis thoughts soar, still the king remains a clumsy, confined, powerlesschild of humanity; how much soever his conscience harasses him withdisquiet and dread, yet he must be calm and endure it. He cannot runaway from his conscience; God has fettered him by the flesh. The king issleeping! But the queen is not; and Jane Douglas is not; neither isthe Princess Elizabeth. She has watched with heart beating high. She isrestless, and, pacing her room up and down in strange confusion, waitedfor the hour that she had appointed for the meeting. Now the hour hadarrived. A glowing crimson overspread the face of the young princess;and her hand trembled as she took the light and opened the secret doorto the corridor. She stood still for a moment, hesitating; then, ashamedof her irresolution, she crossed the corridor and ascended the smallstaircase which led to the tower-chamber. With a hasty movement shepushed open the door and entered the small slip that was at the end ofher journey, and Thomas Seymour was already there. 

As she saw him, an involuntary trepidation came over her, and for thefirst time she now became conscious of her hazardous step. 

As Seymour, the ardent young man, approached her with a passionatesalutation, she stepped shyly back and pushed away his hand. 

"How! you will not allow me to kiss your hand?" asked he, and shethought she observed on his face a slight, scornful smile. "You make methe happiest of mortals by inviting me to this interview, and now youstand before me rigid and cold, and I am not once permitted to clasp youin my arms, Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth! He had called her by her first name without her havinggiven him permission to do so. That offended her. In the midst of herconfusion, that aroused the pride of the princess, and made her awarehow much she must have forgotten her own dignity, when another could beso forgetful of it. 

She wished to regain it. At this moment she would have given a year ofher life if she had not taken this step--if she had not invited the earlto this meeting. 

She wanted to try and regain in his eyes her lost position, and again tobecome to him the princess. 

Pride in her was still mightier than love. She meant her lover should atthe same time bow before her as her favored servant. 

Therefore she gravely said: "Earl Thomas Seymour, you have often beggedus for a private conversation; we now grant it to you. Speak, then! whatmatter of importance have you to bring before us?"

And with an air of gravity she stepped to an easy-chair, on which sheseated herself slowly and solemnly like a queen, who gives audience toher vassals. 

Poor, innocent child, that in her unconscious trepidation wished tointrench herself behind her grandeur, as behind a shield, which mightconceal her maidenly fear and girlish anxiety!

Thomas Seymour, however, divined her thoughts; and his proud and coldheart revolted against this child's attempt to defy him. 

He wanted to humble her; he wished to compel her to bow before him, andimplore his love as a gracious gift. 

He therefore bowed low to the princess, and respectfully said: "Yourhighness, it is true I have often besought you for an audience; butyou have so long refused me, that at last I could no longer summon upcourage 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 excitethem again. My heart should remain dead, my lips mute. You have sowilled; and I have submitted to your will. Farewell, then, princess, and may your days be happier and more serene than those of poor ThomasSeymour!"

He bowed low before her, and then went slowly to the door. He hadalready opened it and was about to step out, when a hand was suddenlylaid on his shoulder and drew him with vehement impetuosity back intothe room. 

"Do you want to go?" asked Elizabeth, with fluttering breath andtrembling voice. "You want to leave me, and, flouting me, you want now, it may be, to go to the Duchess of Richmond, your mistress, andrelate to her with a sneer that the Princess Elizabeth granted you aninterview, 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 be my wife!"

"And why not?"

"Because I do not love her, princess. "

A beam of delight passed over Elizabeth's pale, agitated face. "Why doyou call me princess?" asked she. 

"Because you have come as a princess to favor your poor servant with anaudience. But, ah, it would be greatly abusing your princely grace didI 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 wasmanifested in her whole being. Now she was the true daughter of herfather, inconsiderate and passionate in her wrath, destroying in herferocity. 

"You shall not go, " muttered she, with her teeth firmly set. "I will notlet you go! I will not let you confront me any longer with that cold, smiling face. Scold me; cast on me the bitterest reproaches, because Ihave dared to brave you so long; curse me, if you can! Anything but thissmiling calmness. It kills me; it pierces my heart like a dagger. Foryou see well 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 todesperation; 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 thenext moment I fall on my knees and beseech God to forgive me this crimeagainst you. I love you, I say--not as those soft, gentle-hearted womenlove, with a smile on the lip; but with madness and desperation, withjealousy and wrath. I love you as my father loved Anne Boleyn, whom, inthe hatred of his love and the cruel wrath of his jealousy, he made tomount 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, ifyou should dare ever to cease to love me. And now, Thomas Seymour, nowsay whether you have the courage to desire to leave me?"

She looked bewitching in the naming might of her passion; she was soyoung, so ardent; and Thomas Seymour was so ambitious! In his eyesElizabeth was not merely the beautiful, charming maiden, who loved him:she was more than that: she was the daughter of Henry the Eighth, thePrincess of England, perchance some day the heiress of the throne. It istrue, her father had disinherited her, and by act of Parliament declaredher unworthy of succeeding to the throne. [Footnote: Burnet, vol. I, p. 138] But Henry's vacillating mind might change, and the disownedprincess might one day become queen. 

The earl thought of this as he gazed on Elizabeth--as he saw her beforehim, so charming, so young, and so glowing with passion. He thought ofit as he now clasped her in his arms, and pressed on her lips a burningkiss. 

"No, I will not go, " whispered he. "I will never more depart from yourside, if you do not wish me to go. I am yours!--your slave, your vassal;and I will never be anything else but this alone. They may betray me;your father may punish me for high treason; yet will I exult in my goodfortune, for Elizabeth loves me, and it will be for Elizabeth that Idie!"

"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 mymaster; and if I am ever queen, and I feel here in my heart that I mustbecome so, then will Thomas Seymour be King of England. "

"That is to say, in the quiet and secrecy of your chamber I shouldperhaps be so!" said he with a sigh. "But there without, before theworld, I shall still be ever only a servant; and at the best, I shall becalled the favorite. "

"Never, never, that I swear to you! Said I not that I loved you?"

"But the love of a woman is so changeable! Who knows how long it will bebefore you will tread under your feet poor Thomas Seymour, when once thecrown has adorned your brow. "

She looked at him well-nigh horrified. "Can this be, then? Is itpossible that one can forget and forsake what he once loved?"

"Do you ask, Elizabeth? Has not your father already his sixth wife?"

"It is true, " said she, as mournfully she dropped her head upon herbreast. "But I, " said she, after a pause, "I shall not be like my fatherin that. I shall love you eternally! And that you may have a guaranty ofmy faithfulness, I offer myself to you as your wife. "

Astonished, he looked inquiringly into her excited, glowing face! He didnot understand her. 

But she continued, passionately: "Yes, you shall be my lord and myhusband! Come, my beloved, come! I have not called you to take uponyourself the disgraceful role of the secret lover of a princess--I havecalled you to be my husband. I wish a bond to unite us two, that is soindissoluble that not even the wrath and will of my father, but onlydeath itself, can sever it. I will give you proof of my love and mydevotion; and you shall be forced to acknowledge that I truly love you. Come, my beloved, that I may soon hail you as my husband!"

He looked at her as though petrified. "Whither will you lead me?"

"To the private chapel, " said she, innocently. "I have written Cranmerto 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 hemay marry us!"

The earl staggered back as if stunned. "And have you written him thatalso?"

"Nay, indeed, " said she, with a charming, childlike smile. "I know verywell that it is dangerous to trust such secrets to paper. I have onlywritten him to come in his official robes, because I have an importantsecret to confess to him. "

"Oh, God be praised! We are not lost, " sighed Seymour. 

"But how, I do not understand you?" asked she. "You do not extend meyour hand! You do not hasten to conduct me to the chapel!"

"Tell me, I conjure you, tell me only this one thing: have you everspoken to the archbishop of your--no--of our love? Have you everbetrayed 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 andtimorous; and as often as I tried to fulfil the holy duty, and confesseverything honestly and frankly to the archbishop, I could not doit! The word died on my lips; and it was as though an invisible powerparalyzed my tongue. "

"So, then, Cranmer knows nothing?"

"No, Seymour, he knows nothing as yet. But now he shall learn all;now we will go before him and tell him that we love each other, andconstrain 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 tofulfil your wish. I say that you can never be my wife. "

She looked him full and square in the face. "Have you not then told methat you loved me?" asked she. "Have I not sworn to you that I loved youin return? Must we then not be married, in order to sanctify the unionof our hearts?"

Seymour sank his eyes to the ground before her pure innocent look, andblushed for shame. She did not understand this blush; because he wassilent, she deemed him convinced. 

"Come, " said she, "come; Cranmer is waiting for us!"

He again raised his eyes and looked at her in amazement, "Do you notsee, then, this is all only a dream that can never become reality? Doyou not feel that this precious fantasy of your great and noble heartwill never be realized? How! are you then so little acquainted with yourfather as not to know that he would destroy us both if we should dare toset at naught his paternal and his royal authority? Your birth would notsecure you from his destroying fury, for you well know he is unyieldingand reckless in his wrath; and the voice of consanguinity sounds not soloud in him that it would not be drowned by the thunder of his wrath. Poor child, you have learned that already! Remember with what crueltyhe has already revenged himself on you for the pretended fault of yourmother; how he transferred to you his wrath against her. Remember thathe refused your hand to the Dauphin of France, not for the sake ofyour happiness, but because he said you were not worthy of so exalted aposition. Anne Boleyn's bastard could never become Queen of France. Andafter such a proof of his cruel wrath against you, will you dare castin his face this terrible insult?--compel him to recognize a subject, aservant, as his son?"

"Oh, this servant is, however, the brother of a Queen of England!" saidshe, shyly. "My father loved Jane Seymour too warmly not to forgive herbrother. "

"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, butnot to reward love. King Henry would be capable of sentencing AnneBoleyn's daughter to death, and of sending to the block and rackCatharine Howard's brothers, because these two queens once grieved himand wounded his heart; but he would not forgive me the least offence onaccount of my being the brother of a queen who loved him faithfully andtenderly till her death. But I speak not of myself. I am a warrior, andhave too often looked death in the face to fear him now. I speak only ofyou, Elizabeth. You have no right to perish thus. This noble head mustnot be laid upon the block. It is destined to wear a royal crown. Afortune still higher than love awaits you--fame and power! I must notdraw you away from this proud future. The Princess Elizabeth, thoughabused and disowned, may yet one day mount the throne of England. TheCountess Seymour never! she disinherits herself! Follow, then, your highdestiny. Earl Seymour retires before a throne. "

"That is to say, you disdained me?" asked she, angrily stamping thefloor with her foot. "That is to say, the proud Earl Seymour holds thebastard 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 purelythan any other man can love you; for this love is so great that it makesmy selfishness and my ambition silent, and allows me to think only ofyou and your future. "

"Ah, " sighed she, mournfully, "if you really loved me, you would notconsider--you would not see the danger, nor fear death. You would thinkof nothing, and know nothing, save love. "

"Because I think of love, I think of you, " said Seymour. "I think thatyou are to move along over the world, great, powerful, and glorious, andthat I will lend you my arm for this. I think of this, that my queen ofthe future needs a general who will win victories for her, and thatI will be that general. But when this goal is reached--when you arequeen--then you have the power from one of your subjects to make ahusband; then it rests with your own will to elevate me to be theproudest, the happiest, and the most enviable of all men. Extend me yourhand, then, and I will thank and praise God that he is so gracious tome; and my whole existence will be spent in the effort to give you thehappiness that you are so well entitled to demand. "

"And until then?" asked she, mournfully. 

"Until then, we will be constant, and love each other!" cried he, as hegently pressed her in his arms. She gently repelled him. "Will you alsobe true to me till then?"

"True till death!"

"They have told me that you would marry the Duchess of Richmond, inorder thereby to at length put an end to the ancient hatred between theHowards and Seymours. "

Thomas Seymour frowned, and his countenance grew dark. "Believe me, thishatred is invincible, " said he; "and no matrimonial alliance could washit away. It is an inheritance from many years in our families; and I amfirmly resolved not to renounce my inheritance. I shall just as littlemarry the Duchess of Richmond, as Henry Howard will my sister, theCountess of Shrewsbury. "

"Swear that to me! Swear to me, that you say the truth, and that thishaughty 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 thensaid, "is it not true we shall often see each other? We will both keepthis secret of this tower faithfully and sacredly; and after days fullof privation and disappointment, we will here keep festival the nightsfull of blissful pleasure and sweet transport. But why do you smile, Seymour?"

"I smile, because you are pure and innocent as an angel, " said he, ashe reverently kissed her hand. "I smile, because you are an exalted, godlike child, whom one ought to adore upon his knees, and to whom oneought to pray, as to the chaste goddess Vesta! Yes, my dear, belovedchild, 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 ofbetraying this sweet, guileless confidence with which you favor me, andsully your angel purity!"

"Ah, we will be very happy, Seymour!" said she, smiling. "I lack onlyone thing--a friend, to whom I can tell my happiness, to whom I canspeak of you. Oh, it often seems to me as if this love, which mustalways be concealed, always shut up, must at last burst my breast; as ifthis secret must with violence break a passage, and roar like a tempestover the whole world. Seymour, I want a confidante of my happiness andmy love. "

"Guard yourself well against desiring to seek such a one!" exclaimedSeymour, anxiously. "A secret that three know, is a secret no more; andone day your confidante will betray us. "

"Not so; I know a woman who would be incapable of that--a woman wholoves me well enough to keep my secret as faithfully as I myself; awoman who could be more than merely a confidante, who could be theprotectress of our love. Oh, believe me, if we could gain her to ourside, then our future would be a happy and a blessed one, and we mighteasily succeed in obtaining the king's consent to our marriage. "

"And who is this woman?"

"It is the queen. "

"The queen!" cried Thomas Seymour, with such an expression of horrorthat Elizabeth trembled; "the queen your confidante? But that isimpossible! That would be plunging us both inevitably into ruin. Unhappychild, be very careful not to mention even a single word, a syllable ofyour relation to me. Be very careful not to betray to her, even by theslightest 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 yousuppose that Catharine would fly into a passion because Earl Seymourloves me? Or how?--it is she, perhaps, that you love, and you dare nottherefore let her know that you have sworn your love to me also? Ah, I now see through it all; I understand it all! You love the queen--heronly. For that reason you will not go to the chapel with me; for thatreason you swore that you would not marry the Duchess of Richmond;and therefore--oh, my presentiment did not deceive me--therefore thatfurious ride in Epping Forest to-day. Ah, the queen's horse must ofcourse become raving, and run away, that his lordship, the master ofhorse, might follow his lady, and with her got lost in the thicketof the woods!--And now, " said she, her eyes flashing with anger, andraising her hand to heaven as if taking an oath, "now I say to you: Takeheed to yourself! Take heed to yourself, Seymour, that you do not, evenby a single word or a single syllable, betray your secret, for thatword would crush you! Yes, I feel it, that I am no bastard, that I ammy father's own daughter; I feel it in this wrath and this jealousy thatrages within me! Take heed to yourself, Seymour, for I will go henceand accuse you to the king, and the traitor's head will fall upon thescaffold!"

She was beside herself. With clenched fists and a threatening air shepaced the room up and down. Tears gushed from her eyes; but she shookthem out of her eyelashes, so that they fell scattering about her likepearls. Her father's impetuous and untractable nature stirred withinher, and his blood seethed in her veins. 

But Thomas Seymour had already regained his self-command and composure. He approached the princess and despite her struggles clasped her in hisarms. 

"Little fool!" said he, between his kisses. "Sweet, dear fool, howbeautiful you are in your anger, and how I love you for it! Jealousy isbecoming to love; and I do not complain, though you are unjust and crueltoward me. The queen has much too cold and proud a heart ever to beloved by any man. Ah, only to think this is already treason to hervirtue 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 alwaysbeen just to you; and to me she has ever been only a gracious mistress!"

"It is true, " murmured Elizabeth, completely ashamed; "she is a truefriend and mother; and I have her to thank for my present position atthis court. "

Then, after a pause, she said, smiling, and extending her hand to theearl: "You are right. It would be a crime to suspect her; and I am afool. Forgive me, Seymour, forgive my absurd and childish anger; and Ipromise you in return to betray our secret to no one, not even to thequeen. "

"Do you swear that to me?"

"I swear it to you! and I swear to you more than that: I will neveragain be jealous of her. "

"Then you do but simple justice to yourself and to the queen also, " saidthe 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, andthe archbishop awaits me in the royal chapel. "

"And what will you say to him, beloved?"

"I will make my confession to him. "

"How! so you will then betray our love to him?"

"Oh, " said she, with a bewitching smile, "that is a secret between usand God; and only to Him alone can we confess it; because He alone canabsolve us from it. Farewell, then, Seymour, farewell, and think of metill 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 inthe heavens. Oh, then I could wish there were a change of the moon everyweek, " 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 ofan oak. Then they parted. The princess slipped again softly andunseen into her apartments, and thence into the royal chapel; the earldescended again the spiral staircase which led to the secret door of thegarden. 

Unobserved and unseen he returned to his palace; even his valet, whoslept in the anteroom, did not see him, as the earl crept past himlightly on his toes, and betook himself to his sleeping-room. 

But no sleep came to his eyes that night, and his soul was restless andfull of fierce torment. He was angry with himself, and accused himselfof treachery and perfidy; and then again, full of proud haughtiness, hestill tried to excuse himself and to silence his conscience, which wassitting in judgment on him. 

"I love her--her only!" said he to himself. "Catharine possesses myheart, my soul; I am ready to devote my whole life to her. Yes, I loveher! 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 andlove to her also?"

"No!" said he. "I have only received her oath; I have not given her minein return. And when I vowed never to marry the Duchess of Richmond; whenI swore this 'by my love, ' then I thought only of Catharine--of thatproud, beautiful, charming woman, at once maidenly and voluptuous;but not of this young, inexperienced, wild child--of this unattractivelittle princess!"

"But the princess may one day become a queen, " whispered his ambition. 

"That, however, is very doubtful, " replied he to himself. "But it iscertain that Catharine will one day be the regent, and if I am at thattime her husband, then I am Regent of England. "

This was the secret of his duplicity and his double treachery. ThomasSeymour loved nothing but himself, nothing but his ambition. He wascapable of risking his life for a woman; but for renown and greatness hewould have gladly sacrificed this woman. 

For him there was only one aim, one struggle: to be come great andpowerful above all the nobles of the kingdom--to be the first man inEngland. And to reach this aim, he would be afraid of no means; he wouldshrink from no treachery and no sin. 

Like the disciples of Loyola, he said, in justification of himself, "theend 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. 

He was firmly convinced that he loved the queen ardently; and in hisnobler hours he did really love her. Depending on the moment, a son ofthe hour, in him feeling and will varied with the rapidity of lightning, and he ever was wholly and completely that with which the momentinflamed him. 

When, therefore, he stood before the queen, he did not lie when he sworethat he loved her passionately. He really loved her, with double warmth, since she had to his mind in some sort identified herself with hisambition. He adored her, because she was the means that might conducthim to his end; because she might some day hold in her hands the sceptreof England. And on the day when this came to pass, he wished to beher lover and her lord. She had accepted him as her lord, and he wasentirely certain of his future sway. 

Consequently he loved the queen, but his proud and ambitious heart couldnever be so completely animated by one love as that there should notbe room in it for a second, provided this second love presented him afavorable chance for the attainment of the aim of his life. 

Princess Elizabeth had this chance. And if the queen would certainlybecome one day Regent of England, yet Elizabeth might some day perchancebecome queen thereof. Of course, it was as yet only a perhaps, but onemight manage out of this perhaps to make a reality. Besides, this young, passionate child loved him, and Thomas Seymour was himself too youngand too easily excitable to be able to despise a love that presented himwith such enticing promises and bright dreams of the future. 

"It does not become a man to live for love alone, " said he to himself ashe now thought over the events of the night. "He must struggle for thehighest and wish to reach the greatest, and no means of attaining thisend ought he to leave unemployed. Besides, my heart is large enough tosatisfy a twofold love. I love them both--both of these fair women whofetch me a crown. Let fate decide to which of the two I shall one daybelong!"

CHAPTER XXII. HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY. 

The great court festival, so long expected, was at last to take placetoday. Knights and lords were preparing for the tournament; poets andscholars for the feast of the poets. For the witty and brave king wishedto unite the two in this festival today, in order to give the world arare and great example of a king who could claim all virtue and wisdomas 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 wereto sing their songs, and John Heywood to bring out his merry farces. Ay, even the great scholars were to have a part in this festival; for theking had specially, for this, summoned to London from Cambridge, wherehe was then professor in the university, his former teacher in the Greeklanguage, the great scholar Croke, to whom belonged the merit of havingfirst made the learned world of Germany, as well as of England, againacquainted with the poets of Greece. [Footnote: Tytler, p. 307. ] Hewished to recite with Croke some scenes from Sophocles to his wonderingcourt; and though, to be sure, there was no one there who understoodthe Greek tongue, yet all, without doubt, must be enraptured with thewonderful music of the Greek and the amazing 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 mindor of the body. 

Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, made his also; that is to say, he hadretired to his cabinet, and was busy filing away at the sonnets whichhe expected to recite to-day, and in which he lauded the beauty and thegrace of the fair Geraldine. 

He had the paper in his hand, and was lying on the velvet ottoman whichstood before his writing-table. 

Had Lady Jane Douglas seen him now, she would have been filled withpainful rapture to observe how, with head leaned back on the cushion, his large blue eyes raised dreamily to heaven, he smiled and whisperedgentle words. 

He was wholly absorbed in sweet reminiscences; he was thinking of thoserapturous, blessed hours which he a few days before had spent with hisGeraldine; and as he thought of them he adored her, and repeated to heranew 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 himby his Geraldine. 

She was his--his at last! After struggles so long and painful, aftersuch bitter renunciation, and such mournful resignation, happiness hadat last arisen for him; the never expected had at last become indeed areality. Catharine loved him. With a sacred oath she had sworn to himthat she would one day become his wife; that she would become his wifebefore God and man. 

But when is the day to come on which he may show her to the world ashis consort? When will she be at length relieved from the burden of herroyal crown? When at length will fall from her those golden chains thatbind her to a tyrannical and bloodthirsty husband--to the cruel andarrogant king? When will Catharine at length cease to be queen, in orderto become Lady Surrey?

Strange! As he asked himself this, there ran over him a shudder, and anunaccountable dread fell upon his soul. 

It seemed to him as if a voice whispered to him: "Thou wilt never liveto see that day! The king, old as he is, will nevertheless live longerthan 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 beforeit had spoken to him, and always with the same words, the same warning. Often it seemed to him in his dreams as if he felt a cutting painabout the neck; and he had seen a scaffold, from which his own head wasrolling down. 

Henry Howard was superstitious; for he was a poet, and to poets it isgiven to perceive the mysterious connection between the visible and theinvisible world; to believe that supernatural powers and invisible formssurround man, and either protect him or else curse him. 

There were hours in which he believed in the reality of his dreams--inwhich he did not doubt of that melancholy and horrible fate which theyforetold. 

Formerly he had given himself up to it with smiling resignation; butnow--since he loved Catharine, since she belonged to him--now he wouldnot die. Now, when life held out to him its most enchanting enjoyments, its intoxicating delights--now he would not leave them--now he dreadedto die. He was therefore cautious and prudent; and, knowing the king'smalicious, savage, and jealous character, he had always been extremelycareful to avoid everything that might excite him, that might arouse theroyal hyena from his slumbers. 

But it seemed to him as though the king bore him and his family aspecial spite; as though he could never forgive them that the consortwhom he most loved, and who had the most bitterly wronged him, hadsprung from their stock. In the king's every word and every look, HenryHoward felt and was sensible of this secret resentment of the king; hesuspected that Henry was only watching for the favorable moment when hecould seize and strangle him. 

He was therefore on his guard. For now, when Geraldine loved him, hislife belonged no longer to himself alone; she loved him; she had a claimon him; his days were, therefore, hallowed in his own eyes. 

So he had kept silence under the petty annoyances and vexations of theking. He had taken it even without murmuring, and without demandingsatisfaction, when the king had suddenly recalled him from the army thatwas fighting against France, and of which he was commander-in-chief, andin his stead had sent Lord Hertford, Earl of Sudley, to the army whichwas encamped before Boulogne and Montreuil. He had quietly and withoutresentment returned to his palace; and since he could no longer be ageneral and warrior, he became again a scholar and poet. His palace wasnow again the resort of the scholars and writers of England; and he wasalways ready, with true princely munificence, to assist oppressed anddespised talent; to afford the persecuted scholar an asylum in hispalace. He it was who saved the learned Fox from starvation, and tookhim into his house, where Horatius Junius and the poet Churchyard, afterward so celebrated, had both found a home--the former as hisphysician and the latter as his page. [Footnote: Nott's Life of the Earlof Surrey]

Love, the arts, and the sciences, caused the wounds that the king hadgiven his ambition, to heal over; and he now felt no more rancor; nowhe almost thanked the king. For to his recall only did he owe his goodfortune; and Henry, who had wished to injure him, had given him hissweetest 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 hadexalted him when he wished to humble him. 

He smiled, and again took in hand the poem in which he wished tocelebrate in song, at the court festival that day, the honor andpraise of his lady-love, whom no one knew, or even suspected--the fairGeraldine. 

"The verses are stiff, " muttered he; "this language is so poor! It hasnot the power of expressing all that fulness of adoration and ecstasywhich I feel. Petrarch was more fortunate in this respect. Hisbeautiful, flexible language sounds like music, and it is, even just byitself, the harmonious accompaniment of his love. Ah, Petrarch, I envythee, and yet would not be like thee. For thine was a mournful andbitter-sweet lot. Laura never loved thee; and she was the mother oftwelve children, not a single one of whom belonged to thee. "

He laughed with a sense of his own proud success in love, and seizedPetrarch's sonnets, which lay near him on the table, to compare his ownnew sonnet with a similar one of Petrarch's. 

He was so absorbed in these meditations, that he had not at all observedthat the hanging which concealed the door behind him was pushed aside, and a marvellous young woman, resplendent with diamonds and sparklingwith jewelry, entered his cabinet. 

For an instant she stood still upon the threshold, and with a smileobserved the earl, who was more and more absorbed in his reading. 

She was of imposing beauty; her large eyes blazed and glowed like avolcano; her lofty brow seemed in all respects designed to wear a crown. And, indeed, it was a ducal coronet 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, richlytrimmed with ermine and pearls; two clasps of costly brilliants heldfast to her shoulders the small mantilla of crimson velvet, faced withermine, which covered her back and fell down to her waist. 

Thus appeared the Duchess of Richmond, the widow of King Henry's naturalson, Henry Richmond; the sister of Lord Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey;and the daughter of the noble Duke of Norfolk. 

Since her husband had died and left her a widow at twenty, she residedin her brother's palace, and had placed herself under his protection, and in the world they were known as "the affectionate brother andsister. "

Ah, how little knew the world, which is ever wont to judge fromappearances, of the hatred and the love of these two; how littlesuspicion had it of the real sentiments of this brother and sister!

Henry Howard had offered his sister his palace as her residence, because he hoped by his presence to lay on her impulsive and voluptuousdisposition a restraint which should compel her not to overstep thebounds of custom and decency. Lady Richmond had accepted this offer ofhis palace because she was obliged to; inasmuch as the avaracious andparsimonious king gave his son's widow only a meagre income, and her ownmeans she had squandered and lavishly thrown away upon her lovers. 

Henry Howard had thus acted for the honor of his name; but he loved nothis sister; nay, he despised her. But the Duchess of Richmond hatedher brother, because her proud heart felt humbled by him, and underobligations of gratitude. 

But their hatred and their contempt were a secret that they bothpreserved in the depths of the heart, and which they scarcely daredconfess to themselves. Both had veiled this their inmost feeling witha show of affection, and only once in a while was one betrayed to theother by some lightly dropped word or unregarded look. 

CHAPTER XXIII. BROTHER 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 stepsinaudible. She already stood behind the earl, and he had not yet noticedher. 

Now she bent over his shoulder, and fastened her sparkling eyes on thepaper 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 byher veil. " [Footnote: Sonnet by Surrey. --See Nott's Life and Works ofSurrey. ] "Ah, " said the duchess, laughing, "now, then, I have spied outyour secret, and you must surrender to me at discretion. So you are inlove; and Geraldine is the name of the chosen one to whom you addressyour poems! I swear to you, my brother, you will repay me dear for thissecret. "

"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 asecret, that I shall recite this sonnet at the court festival this veryevening. 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 asingle one who bears that name. "

"So you see from that, the whole is only a fiction--a creation of myfancy. "

"No, indeed, " said she, smiling; "one does not write with such warmthand enthusiasm unless he is really in love. You sing your lady-love, andyou 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 youreyes. And look you! it is on account of this dear one that I have cometo you. It pains me, Henry, that you have no confidence in me, andallow me no share in your joys and sorrows. Do you not know, then, howtenderly I love you, my dear, noble brother?"

She put her arm tenderly round his neck, and wanted to kiss him. He benthis head back, and laying his hand on her rosy, round chin, he lookedinquiringly and smilingly into her eyes. 

"You want something of me, Rosabella!" said he. "I have never yetenjoyed your tenderness and sisterly affection, except when you neededmy services. "

"How suspicious you are!" cried she, with a charming pout, as she shookhis hand away from her face. "I have come from wholly disinterestedsympathy; partly to warn you, partly to find out whether your love isperchance fixed upon a lady that would render my warning useless. "

"Well, so you see, Rosabella, that I was right, and that your tendernesswas not aimless. Now, then, you want to warn me? I have yet to learnthat I need any warning. "

"Nay, brother! For it would certainly be very dangerous and mischievousfor you, if your love should chance not to be in accordance with thecommand of the king. "

A momentary flush spread over Henry Howard's face, and his browdarkened. 

"With the king's command?" asked he, in astonishment. "I did not knowthat Henry the Eighth could control my heart. And, at any rate, I wouldnever concede him that right. Say quickly, then, sister, what is it?What means this about the king's command, and what matrimonial schemehave you women been again contriving? For I well know that you and mymother have no rest with the thought of seeing me still unmarried. Youwant to bestow on me, whether or no, the happiness of marriage; yet, nevertheless, it appears to me that you both have sufficiently learnedfrom experience that this happiness is only imaginary, and that marriagein reality is, at the very least, the vestibule of hell. "

"It is true, " laughed the duchess; "the only happy moment of my marriedlife was when my husband died. For in that I am more fortunate than mymother, who has her tyrant still living about her. Ah, how I pity mymother!"

"Dare not to revile our noble father!" cried the earl, almostthreateningly. "God alone knows how much he has suffered from ourmother, and how much he still suffers. He is not to blame for thisunhappy marriage. But you have not come to talk over these sad anddisgraceful family matters, sister! You wish to warn me, did you say?"

"Yes, warn you!" said the duchess, tenderly, as she took her brother'shand and led him to the ottoman. "Come, let us sit down here, Henry, andlet us for once chat confidentially and cordially, as becomes brotherand sister. Tell me, who is Geraldine?"

"A phantom, an ideal! I have told you that already. "

"You really love, then, no lady at this court?"

"No, none! There is among all these ladies, with whom the queen hassurrounded herself, not one whom I am able to love. "

"Ah, your heart then is free, Henry; and you will be so much more easilyinclined 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 atlast they may reconcile the hatred, which has for centuries separatedthem, 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 bringing about thisreconciliation. He has insulted me before all Europe, by removing mefrom my command, and investing a Seymour with my rank and dignity; andhe requires that I in return shall love this arrogant earl, who hasrobbed me of what is my due; who has long intrigued and besieged theking's ears with lies and calumnies, till he has gained his end andsupplanted me. "

"It is true the king recalled you from the army; but this was done inorder to give you the first place at his court--to appoint you lordchamberlain to the queen. "

Henry Howard trembled and was silent. "It is true, " he then muttered; "Iam obliged to the king for this place. "

"And then, " continued the duchess, with an innocent air, "then I do notbelieve either that Lord Hertford is to blame for your recall. To provethis to you, he has made a proposal to the king, and to me also, whichis to testify to you and to all the world how great an honor LordHertford esteems it to be allied to the Howards, and above all things toyou, by the most sacred bonds. "

"Ah, that noble, magnanimous lord!" cried Henry Howard, with a bitterlaugh. "As matters do not advance well with laurels, he tries themyrtles; since he can win no battles, he 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 ThomasSeymour, provided you choose his sister, Lady Margaret, for your wife. "

"Never!" cried the earl. "Never will Henry Howard present his hand to adaughter of that house; never condescend so far as to elevate a Seymourto be his wife. That is well enough for a king--not for a Howard!"

"Brother, you insult the king!"

"Well, I insult him, then! He has insulted me, too, in arranging thisbase scheme. "

"Brother, reflect; the Seymours are powerful, and stand high in theking's favor. "

"Yes, in the king's favor they stand high! But the people know theirproud, cruel, and arrogant disposition; and the people and nobilitydespise them. The Seymours have the voice of the king in their favor;the Howards the voice of the whole country, and that is of moreconsequence. The king can exalt the Seymours, for they stand far beneathhim. He cannot exalt the Howards, for they are his equals. Nor can hedegrade them. Catharine died on the scaffold--the king became therebyonly a hangman--our escutcheon was not sullied by that act!"

"These are very proud words, Henry!"

"They become a son of the Norfolks, Rosabella! Ah, see that petty LordHertford, Earl Seymour. He covets a ducal coronet for his sister. Hewants to give her to me to wife; for as soon as our poor father dies, Iwear his coronet! The arrogant upstarts! For the sister's escutcheon, mycoronet; for the brother's, your coronet. Never, say I, shall that be!"

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 andself-possession. 

"Consider once more, Henry, " said she, "do not decide at once. You speakof our greatness; but you do not bear in mind the power of the Seymours. I tell you they are powerful enough to tread us in the dust, despite allour greatness. And they are not only powerful at the present; they willbe so in the future also; for it is well known in what disposition andwhat 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 enoughpress him in his arms. Then Edward is king. With him, the heresy ofProtestantism triumphs; and however great and numerous our party may be, yet we shall be powerless and subdued. Yes, we shall be the oppressedand 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 thanto purchase life and humiliation. "

"Yes, it is honorable to die on the field of battle; but, Henry, it is adisgrace to come to an end upon the scaffold. And that, my brother, maybe your fate, if you do not this time bend your pride; if you do notgrasp the hand that Lord Hertford extends to you in reconciliation, butmortally offend him. He will take bloody vengeance, when once he comesinto power. "

"Let him do it, if he can; my life is in God's hand! My head belongsto the king, but my heart to myself; and that I will never degrade tomerchandise, which I may barter for a little security and royal favor. "

"Brother, I conjure you, consider it!" cried the duchess, no longer ableto restrain her passionate disposition, and all ablaze in her savagewrath. "Dare not in proud arrogance to destroy my future also! You maydie on the scaffold, if you choose; but I--I will be happy; I willat last, after so many years of sorrow and disgrace, have my share oflife's joys also. It is my due, and I will not relinquish it; and youshall not be allowed to tear it from me. Know, then, my brother, I loveThomas Seymour; all my desire, all my hope is fixed on him; and I willnot tear this love out of my heart; I will not give him up. "

"Well, if you love him, marry him, then!" exclaimed her brother. "Becomethe wife of this Thomas Seymour! Ask the duke, our father, for hisconsent to this marriage, and I am certain he will not refuse you, for he is prudent and cautious, and will, better than I, calculate theadvantages which a connection with the Seymours may yield our family. Dothat, sister, and marry your dearly beloved. I do not hinder you. "

"Yes, you do hinder me--you alone!" cried his sister, flaming withwrath. "You will refuse Margaret's hand; you will give the Seymoursmortal offence. You thereby make my union with Thomas Seymourimpossible! In the proud selfishness of your haughtiness, you see notthat you are dashing to atoms my happiness, while you are thinking onlyof your desire to offend the Seymours. But I tell you, I love ThomasSeymour--nay, I adore him. He is my happiness, my future, my eternalbliss. Therefore have pity on me, Henry! Grant me this happiness, whichI 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; becomeMargaret Seymour's husband, that Thomas Seymour may become mine. "

She had actually sunk upon her knees; and her face deluged withtears, bewitchingly beautiful in her passionate emotion, she looked upimploringly to her brother. 

But the earl did not lift her up; on the contrary, with a smile, he fellback a step. "How long is it now, duchess, " asked he, mockingly, "sinceyou 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 inthe arms of your page. On that day, I swore to myself never to believeyou again, though you vowed to me, with an oath ever so sacred, thatyou loved a man. Well, now, you love a man; but what one, is a matter ofindifference. To-day his name is Thomas, tomorrow Archibald, or Edwardas you please!"

For the first time the earl drew the veil away from his heart, and lethis sister see all the contempt and anger 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 flashingwith rage, every muscle of her countenance convulsed and trembling, there she stood before her brother. She was a woman no more; she was alioness, that, without compassion or pity, will devour him who has daredirritate 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 callyou a scoundrel. But, by the eternal God, you shall not say that youhave done this with impunity! Once more, and for the last time, I nowask you, will you comply with Lord Hertford's wish? Will you marry LadyMargaret, and accompany me with Thomas Seymour to the altar?"

"No, I will not, and I will never do it!" exclaimed her brother, solemnly. "The Howards bow not before the Seymours; and never will HenryHoward marry a wife that he does not love!"

"Ah, you love her not!" said she, breathless, gnashing her teeth. "Youdo not love Lady Margaret; and for this reason must your sister renounceher love, and give up this man whom she adores. Ah, you love not thissister of Thomas Seymour? She is not the Geraldine whom you adore--towhom you dedicate your verses! Well, now, I will find her out--yourGeraldine. I will discover her; and then, woe to you and to her! Yourefuse 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 Geraldineto the scaffold!"

And as she saw how the earl startled and turned pale, she continued witha scornful laugh: "Ah, you shrink, and horror creeps over you! Doesyour conscience admonish you that the hero, rigid in virtue, may yetsometimes make a false step? You thought to hide your secret, if youenveloped it in the veil of night, like your Geraldine, who, as youwailingly complain in that poem there, never shows herself to youwithout a veil as black as night. Just wait, wait! I will strike a lightfor you, before which all your night-like veils shall be torn in shreds;I will light up the night of your secret with a torch which will belarge enough to set on fire the fagot piles about the stake to which youand your Geraldine are to go!"

"Ah, now you let me see for the first time your real countenance, " saidHenry Howard, shrugging his shoulders. "The angel's mask falls from yourface; and I behold the fury that was hidden beneath it. Now you are yourmother's own daughter; and at this moment I comprehend for the firsttime what my father has suffered, and why he shunned not even thedisgrace of a divorce, just to be delivered from such a Megaera. "

"Oh, I thank you, thank you!" cried she, with a savage laugh. "You arefilling up the measure of your iniquity. It is not enough that you driveyour sister to despair; you revile your mother also! You say that we arefuries; well, indeed, for we shall one day be such to you, and we willshow you our Medusa-face, before which you will be stiffened to stone. Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, from this hour out, I am your implacableenemy; look out for the head on your shoulders, for my hand is raisedagainst it, and in my hand is a sword! Guard well the secret that sleepsin your breast; for you have transformed me to a vampire that will suckyour heart's blood. You have reviled my mother, and I will go hence andtell her of it. She will believe me; for she well knows that you hateher, and that you are a genuine son of your father; that is to say, acanting hypocrite, a miserable fellow, who carries virtue on the lipsand crime in the heart. "

"Cease, I say, cease, " cried the earl, "if you do not want me to forgetthat you are a woman and my sister!"

"Forget it by all means, " said she, scornfully. "I have forgotten longsince that you are my brother, as you have long since forgotten that youare the son of your mother. Farewell, Earl of Surrey; I leave you andyour palace, and will from this hour out abide with my mother, thedivorced wife of the Duke of Norfolk. But mark you this: we two areseparated from you in our love--but not in our hate! Our hatred toyou 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 lookedafter her with a smile as she left the cabinet, and murmured, almostcompassionately: "Poor woman! I have, perhaps, cheated her out of alover, and she will never forgive me that. Well, let it be so! Lether, as much as she pleases, be my enemy, and torment me with pettypin-prickings, if she be but unable to harm her. I hope, though, that Ihave guarded well my secret, and she could not suspect the real causeof my refusal. Ah, I was obliged to wrap myself in that foolish familypride, and make haughtiness a cloak for my love. Oh, Geraldine, theewould I choose, wert thou the daughter of a peasant; and I would nothold my escutcheon tarnished, if for thy sake I must draw a paleathwart it. --But hark! It is striking four! My service begins! Farewell, Geraldine, I must to the queen!"

And while he betook himself to his dressing-room, to put on his staterobes for the great court feast, the Duchess of Richmond returned to herown apartments, trembling and quivering with rage. She traversed thesewith precipitate haste, and entered her boudoir, where Earl Douglas waswaiting for her. 

"Well, " said he, stepping toward her with his soft, lurking smile, "hashe consented?"

"No, " said she, gnashing her teeth. "He swore he would never enter intoan alliance with the Seymours. "

"I well knew that, " muttered the earl. "And what do you decide upon now, my lady?"

"I will have revenge! He wants to hinder me from being happy; I will forthat 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, andhas forgotten the faith of his fathers. "

"I know it!" said she, breathlessly. 

Earl Douglas looked at her in astonishment, and continued: "But he isnot merely an atheist, he is a traitor also; and more than once he hasreviled his king, to whom he, in his pride of heart, believes himselffar superior. "

"I know it!" repeated she. 

"So proud is he, " continued the earl, "so full of blasphemoushaughtiness, that he might lay his hands upon the crown of England. "

"I know it!" said the duchess again. But as she saw the earl'sastonished and doubting looks, she added, with an inhuman smile: "I knoweverything that you want that I should know! Only impute crimes to him;only accuse him; I will substantiate everything, testify to everythingthat will bring him to ruin. My mother is our ally; she hates the fatheras hotly as I the son. Bring your accusation, then, Earl Douglas; we areyour witnesses!"

"Nay, indeed, my lady, " said he, with a gentle, insinuating smile. "Iknow nothing at all; I have heard nothing; how, then, can I bringan accusation? You know all; to you he has spoken. You must be hisaccuser!"

"Well, then, conduct me to the king!" said she. 

"Will you allow me to give you some more advice first?"

"Do so, Earl Douglas. "

"Be very cautious in the choice of your means. Do not waste them allat once, so that if your first thrust does not hit, you may not beafterward without weapons. It is better, and far less dangerous, tosurely kill the enemy that you hate with a slow, creeping poison, gradually and day by day, than to murder him at once with a dagger, which may, however, break on a rib and become ineffective. Tell, then, what you know, not at once, but little by little. Administer your drugwhich is to make the king furious, gradually; and if you do not hityour enemy to-day, think that you will do it so much the more surelyto-morrow. Nor do you forget that we have to punish, not merely theheretic Henry Howard, but above all things the heretical queen, whoseunbelief 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 whatI ought to make known and what conceal. I will do implicitly what yousay. Now, Henry Howard, " said she softly to herself, "hold yourselfready; the contest begins! In your pride and selfishness you havedestroyed the happiness of my life--my eternal felicity. I loved ThomasSeymour; I hoped by his side to find the happiness that I have so longand so vainly sought in the crooked paths of life. By this love my soulwould have been saved and restored to virtue. My brother has willedotherwise. He has, therefore, condemned me to be a demon, instead ofan angel. I will fulfil my destiny. I will be an evil spirit to him. "[Footnote: The Earl of Surrey, by his refusal to marry Margaret Seymour, gave occasion to the rupture of the proposed alliance between ThomasSeymour and the Duchess of Richmond, his sister. After that the duchessmortally hated him and combined with his enemies against him. TheDuchess of Richmond is designated by all the historians of her timeas "the most beautiful woman of her century, but also a shamelessMessalina. "--See Tytler, p. 890. Also Burnet, vol. I, p. 134; Leti, vol. I, p. 83; and Nott's Life of Henry Howard. ]

CHAPTER XXIV. THE QUEEN'S TOILET. 

The festivities of the day are concluded, and the gallant knights andchampions, who have to-day broken a lance for the honor of their ladies, may rest from their victories upon their laurels. The tournament of armswas over, and the tournament of mind was about to begin. The knights, therefore, retired to exchange the coat-of-mail for gold-embroideredvelvet apparel; the ladies to put on their lighter evening dresses;and the queen, likewise with this design, had withdrawn to herdressing-room, while the ladies and lords of her court were inattendance in the large anteroom to escort her to the throne. 

Without, it was beginning to grow dusky, and the twilight cast itslong shadows across this hall, in which the cavaliers of the court werewalking up and down with the ladies, and discussing the particularlyimportant 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 raptureson this account. For Thomas Seymour had been for some time his favorite;perhaps because he was the declared enemy of the Howards. He had, therefore, added to the golden laurel crown which the queen hadpresented to the earl as the award, a diamond pin, and commanded thequeen to fasten it in the earl's ruff with her own hand. Catharinehad done so with sullen countenance and averted looks; and even ThomasSeymour had shown himself only a very little delighted with the proudhonor 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 dreamedof the queen's conversion and return to the true, pure faith; whilethe Protestant, "the heretical" party, looked to the future with gloomydespondency, and were afraid of being robbed of their most powerfulsupport and their most influential patronage. 

Nobody had seen that, as the queen arose to crown the victor, ThomasSeymour, her handkerchief, embroidered with gold, fell from her hands, and that the earl, after he had taken it up and presented it to thequeen, had thrust his hand for a moment, with a motion wholly accidentaland undesigned, into his ruff, which was just as white as the smallneatly-folded paper which he concealed in it, and which he had found inthe queen's handkerchief. 

One person had seen it. This little ruse of the queen had not escapedJohn Heywood, who had immediately, by some cutting witticism, set theking to laughing, and tried to draw the attention of the courtiers fromthe queen and her lover. 

He was now standing crowded into the embrasure of a window, and entirelyconcealed behind the silk curtain; and so, without being seen, he lethis falcon eyes roam over the whole room. 

He saw everything; he heard everything; and, noticed by none, heobserved all. 

He saw how Earl Douglas now made a sign to Bishop Gardiner, and how hequickly answered it. 

As if by accident, both now left the groups with whom they had just beenchatting, and drew near each other, looking about for some place where, unobserved and separated from the rest, they might converse together. Inall the windows were standing groups, chatting and laughing; only thatwindow behind the curtain of which John Heywood was concealed, wasunoccupied. 

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 enemiesto-day. The sword already hangs over their heads, and soon it will falland deliver us from them, " said Earl Douglas, solemnly. 

"Are you, then, certain of it?" asked Gardiner, and an expression ofcruel delight flitted across his malicious, ashy face. "But tell me, howcomes 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!" muttered the bishop, devoutly folding his hands. 

"It will be so, your highness; God will destroy His enemies and blessus. Cranmer is accused, and the king will judge him without mercy. "

"And the queen?"

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 ofreturning from the throne-room to her apartments, we shall accompany herto the Tower. "

John Heywood, completely enveloped in the folds of the curtain, held hisbreath and listened. 

"And you are, then, perfectly sure of our victory?" asked Gardiner. "Canno accident, no unforeseen circumstance, snatch it from us?"

"If the queen gives him the rosette--no! For then the king will findGeraldine's love-letter in the silver knot, and she is condemned. Soall depends on the queen's wearing the rosette, and not discoveringits contents. But see, your highness, there is the Duchess of Richmondapproaching 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 hatedCatharine Parr! I tell you, bishop, it is an accusation involvinglife and death; and if Catharine escape one danger, she will run intoanother. Wait here for me, your highness; I will return soon and tellyou the result of our scheme. Lady Jane, also, will soon bring us newshere. "

He left the window and followed the duchess, who crossed the hall, andwith 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 breathless anxiety, behind the curtain, close by Gardiner, who had folded his hands and waspraying. 

While Gardiner prayed, and Douglas accused and calumniated, the queen, suspecting nothing of these plots they were framing against her, was inher toilet-room and being adorned by her women. 

She was to-day very beautiful, very magnificent to look upon; at oncea woman and queen; at the same time resplendent and modest, with abewitching smile on her rosy lips; and yet commanding respect in herproud and glorious beauty. None of Henry's queens had so well understoodthe art of appearing in public, and none remained so much the womanwhile doing so. 

As she now stood before the large mirror, which the Republic of Venicehad sent the king as a wedding-gift, and which reflected the figure ofthe queen sparkling with diamonds, she smiled, for she was obliged toconfess to herself that she was very beautiful to-day; and she thoughtthat to-day Thomas Seymour would look upon his love with pride. 

As she thought of him, a deep crimson overspread her face, and a thrillflew through her frame. How handsome he had been at the tournament thatday; how splendidly he leaped over the barriers; how his eye flashed;how contemptuous had been his smile! And then, that look which hedirected over to her at the moment when he had conquered his antagonist, Henry Howard, and hurled the lance from his hand! Oh, her heart was thenready to burst with delight and rapture!

Wholly given up to her reverie, she sank in her gilded arm-chair andcast her eyes to the ground, dreaming and smiling. 

Behind her stood her women in respectful silence, waiting for a signfrom their mistress. But the queen no longer thought at all of them; sheimagined herself alone; she saw nobody but that handsome, manly face forwhich she had reserved a place in her heart. 

Now the door opened, and Lady Jane Douglas entered. She, too, wasmagnificently dressed, and sparkling with diamonds; she, too, wasbeautiful, but it was the pallid, dreadful beauty of a demon; and he wholooked upon 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 sawthat her toilet was finished, she made a sign to the women, who silentlyobeyed and left the room. 

Still Catharine noticed nothing. Lady Jane stood behind her and observedher in the mirror. As she saw the queen smile, her brow darkened andfierce fire flashed in her eyes. 

"She shall smile no more, " said she to herself. "I suffer thus terriblyby her; well, now, she shall suffer too. "

Softly and noiselessly she slipped into the next room, the door of whichstood ajar, and opened with hurried hand a carton filled with ribbonsand 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 returned to the adjoining room; and her countenance, whichhad been previously gloomy and threatening, was now proud and joyful. 

With a bright smile she walked up to the queen, and kneeling down at herside, 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 onCatharine's knee and tenderly looked up at her. 

The queen gave a slight start, and raised her head. She saw Lady Jane'stender smile, and her yet searching looks. 

Because she felt conscious of guilt, at least of guilty thoughts, shewas on her guard, and remembered John Heywood's warning. 

"She is observing me, " she said to herself; "she seems affectionate; soshe 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 arhyme, and I am thinking in 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 couldsucceed in composing a poem to which the king was obliged to award theprize. But I am wanting in a musical ear; I cannot find the rhyme, andso shall be obliged at last to give up the idea of winning laurels also. How the king would enjoy it, though! For, to confess the truth to you, Ibelieve he is a little afraid that Henry Howard will bear off the prize, and he would be very thankful to me if I could contest it with him. Youwell know the king has no love for the Howards. "

"And you, queen?" asked Jane; and she turned so pale, that the queenherself noticed it. 

"You are unwell, Jane, " said she, sympathizingly. "Really, Jane, youseem to be suffering. You need recreation; you should rest a little. "

But Jane had already regained her calm and earnest air, and shesucceeded in smiling. 

"No, indeed!" said she. "I am well, and satisfied to be permitted to benear 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 willrequest nothing that her friend cannot grant. "

Lady Jane was silent, and looked thoughtfully upon the ground. With firmresolution she struggled with herself. Her proud heart reared fiercelyup at the thought of bowing before this woman, whom she hated, andof being obliged to approach her with a fawning prayer. She felt suchraging hate against the queen, that in that hour she would willinglyhave given her own life, if she could have first seen her enemy at herfeet, wailing and crushed. 

Henry Howard loved the queen; so Catharine had robbed her of the heartof him whom she adored. Catharine had condemned her to the eternaltorment of renouncing him--to the rack of enjoying a happiness and arapture that was not hers--to warm herself at a fire which she like athief had stolen from the altar of another's god. 

Catharine was condemned and doomed. Jane had no more compassion. Shemust crush her. 

"Well, " asked the queen, "you are silent? You do not tell me what I amto grant you?"

Lady Jane raised her eyes, and her look was serene and peaceful. "Queen, " said she, "I encountered in the ante-room one who is unhappy, deeply bowed down. In your hand alone is the power to raise him upagain. Will you do it?"

"Will I do it!" exclaimed Catharine, quickly. "Oh, Jane, you well knowhow much my heart longs to help and be serviceable to the unfortunate!Ah, so many wounds are inflicted at this court, and the queen is so poorin balm to heal them! Allow me this pleasure then, Jane, and I shall bethankful to you, not you to me! Speak then, Jane, speak quickly; who isit that needs my help?"

"Not your help, queen, but your compassion and your grace. Earl Sudleyhas conquered poor Earl Surrey in the tournament to-day, and youcomprehend that your lord chamberlain feels himself deeply bowed andhumbled. "

"Can I alter that, Jane? Why did the visionary earl, the enthusiasticpoet, allow himself a contest with a hero who already knows what hewants, and ever accomplishes what he wills? Oh, it was wonderful to lookupon, with what lightning speed Thomas Seymour lifted him out ofthe saddle! And the proud Earl Surrey, the wise and learned man, thepowerful party leader, was forced to bow before the hero, who like anangel 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, " saidshe aloud, "you are perfectly right; he has deserved this humiliation;but now, after he is punished, you should lift him up. Nay, do notshake your beautiful head. Do it for your own sake, queen; do it fromprudence. Earl Surrey, with his father, is the head of a powerful party, whom this humiliation of the Howards fills with a still more burninghate against the Seymours, and who will, in time to come, take a bloodyrevenge for it. "

"Ah, you frighten me!" said the queen, who had now become serious. 

Lady Jane continued: "I saw how the Duke of Norfolk bit his lips, as hisson had to yield to Seymour; I heard how one, here and there, mutteredlow curses and vows of vengeance against the Seymours. "

"Who did that? Who dared to do it?" exclaimed Catharine, springing upimpetuously from her arm-chair. "Who at this court is so audacious as towish to injure those whom the queen loves? Name him to me, Jane; I willknow his name! I will know it, that I may accuse him to the king. Forthe king does not want that these noble Seymours should give way tothe Howards; he does not want that the nobler, the better, and moreglorious, should bow before these quarrelsome, domineering papists. Theking loves the noble Seymours, and his powerful arm will protect themagainst 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 betrayed too muchof her secret. She must, therefore, repair the damage, and allow herexcitement to be forgotten. Therefore she said, calmly: "Certainly, Jane; I will assist the king to be just. But never will I be unjust, noteven against these papists. If I cannot love them, nevertheless no oneshall say that I hate them. And besides, it becomes a queen to riseabove parties. Say, then, Jane, what can I do for poor Surrey? With whatshall we bind up these wounds that the brave Seymour has inflicted onhim?"

"You have publicly given the victor in the tournament a token of yourgreat 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 Surreyalso, if he likewise should gain the victory this evening. Do it, therefore, of your own accord, queen. Give him openly, before your wholecourt, a token of your favor! It is so easy for princes to make menhappy, to comfort the unfortunate! A smile, a friendly word, a pressureof the hand is sufficient for it. A ribbon that you wear on your dressmakes him to whom you present it, proud and happy, and raises him highabove all others. Ponder it well, queen; I speak not for Earl Surrey'ssake; I am thinking more of yourself. If you have the courage, publiclyand in spite of the disgrace with which King Henry threatens theHowards, to be nevertheless just to them, and to recognize _their_merits as well as that of others--believe me, if you do that, the wholeof this powerful party, which is now hostile to you, will fall at yourfeet overcome and conquered. You will at last become the all-powerfuland universally loved Queen of England; and, like the heretics, thepapists also will call you their mistress and protectress. Consider nolonger! Let your noble and generous heart prevail! Spiteful fortune hasprostrated Henry Howard in the dust. Extend him your hand, queen, that he may rise again, and again stand there at your court, proud andradiant as he always was. Henry Howard well deserves that you should begracious to him. Great and beaming like a star, he shines on high aboveall men; and there is no one who can say that he himself is more prudentor braver, wiser or more learned, noble or greater, than the noble, theexalted Surrey. All England resounds with his fame. The women repeatwith enthusiasm his beautiful sonnets and love-songs; the learned areproud to call him their equal, and the warriors speak with admiration ofhis feats of arms. Be just, then, queen! You have so highly honored themerit 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 intoJane's glowing and enthusiastic countenance. "I will do it, Jane, butupon one condition!"

"And this condition is--"

Catharine put her arm around Jane's neck, and drew her close to herheart, "That you confess to me, that you love Henry Howard, whom youknow how to defend so enthusiastically and warmly. "

Lady Jane gave a start, and for a moment leaned her head on the queen'sshoulder, exhausted. 

"Well, " asked she, "do you confess it? Will you acknowledge that yourproud, cold heart is obliged to declare itself overcome and conquered?"

"Yes, I confess it, " cried Lady Jane, as with passionate vehemence shethrew herself at Catharine's feet. "Yes, I love him--I adore him. I knowit is a disdained and unhappy love; but what would you have? My heart ismightier than everything else. I love him; he is my god and my lord; Iadore him as my savior and lord. Queen, you know all my secret; betrayme if you will! Tell it to my father, if you wish him to curse me. Tellit to Henry Howard, if it pleases you to hear how he scoffs at me. Forhe, queen--he loves me not!"

"Poor unfortunate Jane!" exclaimed the queen, compassionately. 

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--shebemoaned her fate. 

Ah, she could have strangled the queen; she could have plunged a daggerinto her heart, because she dared to commiserate her. 

"I have complied with your condition, queen, " said she, breathinghurriedly. "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, andyou--you intercede for him!"

"Queen, true love thinks not of itself! It sacrifices itself. It makesno question of the reward it receives, but only of the happiness whichit bestows. I saw in his pale, sorrowful face, how much he suffered;ought I not to think of comforting him? I approached him, I addressedhim; I heard his despairing lamentation over that misfortune, which, however, was not the fault of his activity and courage, but, as all theworld saw, the fault of his horse, which was shy and stumbled. And ashe, in all the bitterness of his pain, was lamenting that you, queen, would despise and scorn him, I, with full trust in your noble andmagnanimous heart, promised him that you would, at my request, yet givehim 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 howshall I begin? What shall I do?"

"The earl this evening, after the king has read the Greek scene withCroke, will recite some new sonnets which he has composed. When hehas done so, give him some kind of a present--be it what it may, nomatter--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 nobleand true poet, and his verses are full of heavenly melody and exaltedthoughts. "

The queen smiled. "Yes, " said she, "you love him ardently; for you haveno 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 fastenedto 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 here on yourshoulder. Your purple mantle is too negligently fastened. We must putsome trimming here. "

She went hastily into the next room and returned with the box in whichwere kept the queen's ribbons embroidered with gold, and bows adornedwith jewels. 

Lady Jane searched and selected, here and there, a long time. Then shetook the crimson velvet rosette, which she herself had previously throwninto the box, and showed it to the queen. 

"See, it is at the same time tasteful and rich, for a diamond claspconfines it in the middle. Will you allow me to fasten this rosette onyour 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 shefastened the rosette on the queen's shoulder. 

"And now, Jane, go and announce to the master of ceremonies that I amready, as soon as the king wishes it, to resort to the gallery. " LadyJane turned to leave the chamber. But, already upon the threshold, shereturned once more. 

"Forgive me, queen, for venturing to make one more request of you. Youhave, however, just shown yourself too much the noble and true friend ofearlier 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 Catharine Parr, thefriend of my youth. Will she keep it, and betray to none my disgrace andhumiliation?"

"My word for that, Jane. Nobody but God and ourselves shall ever knowwhat we have spoken. "

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 ofceremonies. 

In the queen's anteroom she stopped a moment, and leaned against thewall, exhausted, and as it were crushed. Nobody was here who couldobserve and listen to her. She had no need to smile, no need to conceal, beneath a calm and equable appearance, all those tempestuous anddespairing feelings which were working within. She could allow herhatred and her resentment, her rage and her despair, to pour forth inwords and gestures, in tears and imprecations, in sobs and sighs. Shecould fall on her knees and beseech God for grace and mercy, and call onthe devil for revenge and destruction. 

When she had so done, she arose, and her demeanor resumed its wontedcold and calm expression. Only her cheeks were still paler; only a stillgloomier fire darted from her eyes, and a scornful smile played abouther thin, compressed lips. 

She traversed the rooms and corridors, and now she entered the king'santeroom. As she observed Gardiner, who was standing alone and separatedfrom the rest in the embrasure of the window, she went up to him; andJohn Heywood, who was still hidden behind the curtain, shuddered at thefrightful and scornful expression of her features. 

She offered the bishop her hand, and tried to smile. "It is done" saidshe, 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 thispaper, Catharine's death-warrant is signed. "

"Hush!" said Lady Jane. "See! Lord Hertford is coming toward us. Let usgo to meet him. "

They both left the window and walked out into the hall. 

John Heywood immediately slipped from behind the curtain, and, softlygliding along by the wall, left the hall perceived by no one. 

Outside, he stopped and reflected. 

"I must see this conspiracy to the bottom, " said he to himself. "I mustfind out through whom and by what they wish to destroy her; and I musthave sure and undeniable proof in my hands, in order to be able toconvict them, and successfully accuse them to the king. Therefore it isnecessary to be cautious and prudent. So let us consider what to do. Thesimplest thing would be to beg the queen not to wear the rosette. Butthat is only to demolish the web for this time, without, however, beingable to kill the spider that wove it. So she must wear the rosette; forbesides, without that I should never be able either to find out to whomshe is to give it. But the paper that is concealed in the rosette--thatI must have--that must not be in it. 'If the king finds this paper. Catharine's death-warrant is signed. ' Now, my reverend priest of thedevil, the king will not find that paper, for John Heywood will not haveit 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 theembarrassment would be in the king's eyes the most convincing proof ofher guilt. No, I must take this paper out of the rosette without thequeen'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 notclear to me yet; but I will do it--that is enough. Halloo, forward tothe queen!"

With precipitant haste he ran through the halls and corridors, whilewith a smile he muttered away to himself: "Thank God, I enjoy the honorof being the fool; for only the king and the fool have the privilege ofbeing able to enter unannounced every room, even the queen's. "

Catharine was alone in her boudoir, when the small door, through whichthe king was accustomed to resort to her, was softly opened. 

"Oh, the king is coming!" said she, walking to the door to greet herhusband. 

"Yes, the king is coming, for the fool is already here, " said JohnHeywood, who entered through the private door. "Are we alone, queen?Does nobody overhear us?"

"No, John Heywood, 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 smile. "I do notknow, queen; but at any rate it is a begging letter; and without doubtyou would do well not to read it at all; for I bet you, the shamelesswriter of this letter demands of you some impossibility--it may be asmile, or a pressure of the hand, a lock of your hair, or perchance evena kiss. So, queen, do not read the begging letter at all. "

"John, " said she, smiling, and yet trembling with impatience, "John, give me the letter. "

"I will sell it to you, queen. I have learned that from the king, wholikewise gives nothing away generously, without taking in return morethan he gives. So let us trade. I give you the letter; you give me therosette which you wear on your shoulder there. "

"Nay, indeed, John; choose something else--I cannot give you therosette. "

"And by the gods be it sworn!" exclaimed John, with comic pathos, "Igive you not the letter, if you do not give me the rosette. "

"Silly loon, " said the queen, "I tell you I cannot! Choose somethingelse, 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--not those sullenairs, not that angry frown. For if I cannot in earnest receive therosette as a present, then let us do like the Jesuits and papists, whoeven trade with the dear God, and snap their fingers at Him. I mustkeep my oath! I give you the letter, and you give me the rosette; butlisten--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 ofyour own property. "

With a quick motion the queen tore the rosette from her shoulder, andhanded it to John Heywood. 

"Now give me the letter, John. "

"Here it is, " said John Heywood as he received the rosette. "Take it;and you will see that Thomas Seymour is my brother. "

"Your brother?" asked Catharine with a smile, as with trembling hand shebroke 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. Shehad eyes only for those lines, that told her that Thomas Seymour lovedher, adored her, and was pining away with longing after her. She didnot see how John Heywood, with nimble hand, unfastened the diamond claspfrom the rosette, and took out of it the little paper that was concealedin the folds of the ribbon. 

"She is saved!" murmured he, while he thrust the fatal paper into hisdoublet, and fastened the clasp again with the pin. "She is saved, andthe 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 fromhim; for, forbidden love-letters are dangerous things. One day they mayfind a tongue and testify against you! Queen, I will not bring you againanother letter, if you do not first burn that one. "

"John, I will burn it up when once I have really read it. Just now Iread it only with my heart, not with my eyes. Allow me, then, to wear iton 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 likethe famous fox in the fable, that pronounced the grapes sour because hecould not get them, I say, take your rosette back; I will have none ofit. "

He handed the queen the rosette, and she smilingly fastened it on hershoulder again. 

"John, " said she, with a bewitching smile, extending her hand to him, "John, when will you at length permit me to thank you otherwise thanwith words? When will you at length allow your queen to reward you forall this service of love, otherwise than with words?"

John Heywood kissed her hand, and said mournfully: "I will demanda reward of you on the day when my tears and my prayers succeed inpersuading you to renounce this wretched and dangerous love. On thatday I shall have really deserved a reward, and I will accept it from youwith a proud heart. "

"Poor John! So, then, you will never receive your reward; for that daywill never come!"

"So, then, I shall probably receive my reward, but from the king; and itwill be a reward whereby one loses hearing and sight, and head to boot. Well, we shall see! Till then, farewell, queen! I must to the king; forsomebody might surprise me here, and come to the shrewd conclusion thatJohn Heywood is not always a fool, but sometimes also the messenger oflove! I kiss the hem of your garment; farewell, queen!"

He glided again through the private door. 

"Now we will at once examine this paper, " said he, as he reached thecorridor and was sure of being seen by no one. 

He drew the paper out of his doublet and opened it. "I do not know thehand-writing, " muttered her, "but it was a woman that wrote it. "

The letter read: "Do you believe me now, my beloved? I swore to deliverto you to-day, in the presence of the king and all of my court, thisrosette; and I have done so. For you I gladly risk my life, for you aremy life; and still more beautiful were it to die with you, than tolive without you. I live only when I rest in your arms; and those darknights, 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 restoresto me the loved one, and to you, your happy wife, Geraldine. "

"Geraldine! who is Geraldine?" muttered John Heywood, slipping thepaper into his doublet again. "I must disentangle this web of lyingand deceit. I must know what all this means. For this is more than aconspiracy--a false accusation. It concerns, as it seems, areality. This letter the queen is to give to a man; and in it, sweetrecollections, happy nights, are spoken of. So he who receives thisletter is in league with them against Catharine, and I dare say herworst enemy, for he makes use of love against her. Some treachery orknavery is concealed behind this. Either the man to whom this letter isaddressed is deceived--and he is unintentionally a tool in the hands ofthe papists--or he is in league with them, and has given himself up tothe villainy of playing the part of a lover to the queen. But who can hebe? Perchance, Thomas Seymour. It were possible; for he has a cold anddeceitful heart, and he would be capable of such treachery. But woe beto 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 Gardiner. 

"We have attained it, " said Earl Douglas. "The duchess has accused herbrother of a liaison with the queen. She has deposed that he sometimesleaves the palace by night, and does not return to it before morning. She has declared that for four nights she herself dogged her brother andsaw him as he entered the wing of the castle occupied by the queen; andone of the queen's maids has communicated to the duchess that the queenwas not in her room on that night. "

"And the king listened to the accusation, and did not throttle you inhis wrath!"

"He is just in that dull state of rage in which the lava that the craterwill afterward pour forth, is just prepared. As yet all is quiet, but besure there will be an eruption, and the stream of red-hot lava will busythose who have dared excite the god Vulcan. "

"And does he know about the rosette?" asked Lady Jane. 

"He knows everything. And until that moment he will allow no one tosuspect his wrath and fury. He says he will make the queen perfectlysecure, 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 thequeen is inevitably lost. "

"But hark! The doors are opened, and the master of ceremonies comes tosummon us to the golden gallery. "

"Just walk in, " muttered John Heywood, gliding along behind them. "I amstill here; and I will be the mouse that gnaws the net in which you wantto catch my noble-minded lioness. "

CHAPTER XXV. THE QUEEN'S ROSETTE. 

The golden gallery, in which the tourney of the poets was to take place, presented to-day a truly enchanting and fairy-like aspect. Mirrorsof gigantic size, set in broad gilt frames, ornamented with the moatperfect carved work, covered the walls, and threw back, a thousandtimes reflected, the enormous chandeliers which, with their hundreds andhundreds of candles, shed the light of day in the vast hall. Here andthere were seen, arranged in front of the mirrors, clusters of therarest and choicest flowers, which poured through the hall theirfragrance, stupefying and yet so enchanting, and outshone in brilliancyof colors even the Turkish carpet, which stretched through the wholeroom and changed the floor into one immense flower-bed. Between theclumps of flowers were seen tables with golden vases, in which wererefreshing beverages; while at the other end of the enormous gallerystood a gigantic sideboard, which contained the choicest and rarestdishes. At present the doors of the sideboard, which, when open, formeda room of itself, were closed. 

They had not yet come to the material enjoyments; they were stilloccupied in absorbing the spiritual. The brilliant and select companythat filled the hall was still for some time condemned to be silent, andto shut up within them their laughter and gossip, their backbiting andslander, their flattery and hypocrisy. 

Just now a pause ensued. The king, with Croke, had recited to his courta scene from "Antigone"; and they were just taking breath from thewonderful and exalted enjoyment of having just heard a language of whichthey 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 anddreamed, an invisible band played a piece of music composed by the kinghimself, and which, with its serious and solemn movement, strangelycontrasted 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 givethemselves up to unrestrained chit-chat. It was, therefore, natural forthem to laugh, and to appear not to notice the king's exhaustion andrepose. 

Besides, they had not for a long time seen Henry so cheerful, so full ofyouthful life, so sparkling with wit and humor, as on this evening. Hismouth was overflowing with jests that made the gentlemen laugh, and thebeautiful, brilliant women blush, and, above all, the young queen, who sat by him on the rich and splendid throne, and now and then threwstolen and longing glances at her lover, for whom she would willinglyand gladly have given her royal crown and her throne. 

When the king saw how Catharine blushed, he turned to her, and in histenderest tone begged her pardon for his jest, which, however, in itssauciness, served only to make his queen still more beautiful, stillmore bewitching. His words were then so tender and heartfelt, his looksso full of love and admiration, that nobody could doubt but that thequeen was in highest favor with her husband, and that he loved her mosttenderly. 

Only the few who knew the secret of this tenderness of the king, soopen and so unreservedly displayed, comprehended fully the danger whichthreatened the queen; for the king was never more to be dreaded thanwhen he flattered; and on no one did his wrath fall more crushingly thanon him whom he had just kissed and assured of his favor. 

This was what Earl Douglas said to himself, when he saw with what acordial look Henry the Eighth chatted with his consort. 

Behind the throne of the royal pair was seen John Heywood, in hisfantastic and dressy costume, with his face at once noble and cunning;and the king just then broke out into loud, resounding laughter at hissarcastic 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 JohnHeywood had wished. He, therefore, repeated his question. 

"No, indeed, " said she: "I find the king to-day quite like the sun. Heis radiant and bright, like it. "

"Queen, you do not mean the sun, but the full moon, " said John Heywood. "But only see, Henry, how cheerfully Earl Archibald Douglas over thereis chatting with the Duchess of Richmond! I love that good earl. He always appears like a blind-worm, which is just in the notion ofstinging some one on the heel, and hence it comes that, when nearthe earl, I always transform myself into a crane. I stand on one leg;because I am then sure to have the other at least safe from the earl'ssting. King, were I like you, I would not have those killed that theblind-worm has stung; but I would root out the blind-worms, that thefeet of honorable men might be secure from them. "

The king cast at him a quick, searching look, which John Heywoodanswered with a smile. 

"Kill the blind-worms, King Henry, " said he; "and when you are once atwork destroying vermin, it will do no harm if you once more give thesepriests also a good kick. It is now a long time since we burnt any ofthem, and they are again becoming arrogant and malicious, as theyalways were and always will be. I see even the pious and meek bishop ofWinchester, the noble Gardiner, who is entertaining himself with LadyJane over there, smiling very cheerfully, and that is a bad sign; forGardiner smiles only when he has again caught a poor soul, and preparedit as a breakfast for his lord. I do not mean you, king, but hislord--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 foran hour. Therefore Gardiner catches so many souls; for since he sinsevery hour, every hour he needs indulgence. "

"You are very spiteful to-day, John Heywood, " 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, inspite of himself, filled his suspicious soul with new doubts. 

He mistrusted not merely the accused, but the accusers also; and ifhe punished the one as criminals, he would have willingly punished theothers as informants. 

He asked himself: "What aim had Earl Douglas and Gardiner in accusingthe queen; and why had they startled him out of his quiet andconfidence?" At that moment, when he looked on his beautiful wife, whosat by him in such serene tranquillity, unembarrassed and smiling, hefelt a deep anger fill his heart, not against Catharine, but againstJane, who accused her. She was so lovely and beautiful! Why did theyenvy him her? Why did they not leave him in his sweet delusion? Butperhaps she was not guilty. No, she was not. The eye of a culprit isnot thus bright and clear. The air of infidelity is not thusunembarrassed--of such maidenly delicacy. 

Moreover, the king was exhausted and disgusted. One can become satiatedeven with cruelty; and, at this hour, Henry felt completely surfeitedwith bloodshed. 

His heart--for, in such moments of mental relaxation and bodilyenfeeblement, the king even had a heart--his heart was already in themood 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 ofbrilliant and noble lords, was standing not far from the royal throne. 

The king felt a deadly stab in his breast, and his eyes darted lightningover toward that group. 

How proud and imposing the figure of the noble earl looked; how highhe overtopped all others; how noble and handsome his countenance; howkingly was his bearing and whole appearance!

Henry must admit all this; and because he must do so, he hated him. 

Nay! no mercy for Catharine! If what her accusers had told him weretrue--if they could give him the proofs of the queen's guilt, then shewas doomed. And how could he doubt it? Had they not told him that inthe rosette, which the queen would give Earl Surrey, was contained alove-letter from Catharine, which he would find? Had not Earl Surrey, ina confidential hour, yesterday imparted this to his sister, the Duchessof Richmond, when he wished to bribe her to be the messenger of lovebetween the queen and himself? Had she not accused the queen of havingmeetings by night with the earl in the deserted tower?

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 hisfather, the Duke of Norfolk. How sprightly and gracefully the old dukemoved; how slim his form; and how lofty and imposing his bearing!The king was younger than the duke; and yet he was fettered to histruckle-chair; yet he sat on his throne like an immovable colossus, while he moved freely and lightly, and obeyed his own will, notnecessity. Henry could have crushed him--this proud, arrogant earl, whowas a free man, whilst his king was nothing but a prisoner to his ownflesh, a slave of his unwieldy body. 

"I will exterminate it--this proud, arrogant race of Howards!" mutteredthe 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 usnow enjoy them; for you see, indeed, how impatiently all the beautifulwomen look on England's noblest and greatest poet, and how very angrywith me they would be if I still longer withhold this enjoyment fromthem! Even my fair queen is full of longing after your songs, so richin fancy; for you well know, Howard, she loves poetry, and, above allthings, yours. "

Catharine had scarcely heard what the king said. Her looks hadencountered Seymour's, and their eyes were fixed on each other's. Butshe had then cast down to the floor her eyes, still completely filledwith the sight of her lover, in order to think of him, since she nolonger dared gaze at him. 

When the king called her name, she started up and looked at himinquiringly. She had not heard what he had said to her. 

"Not even for a moment does she look toward me!" said Henry Howardto himself. "Oh, she loves me not! or at least her understanding ismightier than her love. Oh, Catharine, Catharine, fearest thou death somuch that thou canst on that account deny thy love?"

With desperate haste he drew out his portfolio. "I will compel her tolook at me, to think of me, to remember her oath, " thought he. "Woe toher, if she does not fulfil it--if she gives me not the rosette, whichshe promised me with so solemn a vow! If she does it not, then I willbreak this dreadful silence, and before her king, and before her court, accuse her of treachery to her love. Then, at least, she will not beable to cast me off; for we shall mount the scaffold together. "

"Does my exalted queen allow me to begin?" asked he aloud, whollyforgetting that the king had already given him the order to do so, andthat it was he only who could grant such a permission. 

Catharine looked at him in astonishment. Then her glance fell on LadyJane Douglas, who was gazing over at her with an imploring expression. The queen smiled; for she now remembered that it was Jane's belovedwho had spoken to her, and that she had promised the poor young girl toraise again the dejected Earl of Surrey and to be gracious to him. 

"Jane is right, " thought she; "he appears to be deeply depressed andsuffering. Ah, it must be very painful to see those whom one lovessuffering. I will, therefore, comply with Jane's request, for she saysthis might revive the earl. "

With a smile she bowed to Howard. "I beg you, " said she, "to lend ourfestival its fairest ornament--to adorn it with the fragrant flowers ofyour poesy. You see we are all burning with desire to hear your verses. "

The king shook with rage, and a crushing word was already poised uponhis lip. But he restrained himself. He wanted to have proofs first; hewanted to see them not merely accused, but doomed also; and for that heneeded proofs of their guilt. 

Henry Howard now approached the throne of the royal pair, and withbeaming looks, with animated countenance, with a voice trembling withemotion, he read his love-song to the fair Geraldine. A murmur ofapplause arose when he had read his first sonnet. The king only lookedgloomily, with fixed eyes; the queen alone remained uninterested andcold. 

"She is a complete actress, " thought Henry Howard, in the madness of hispain. "Not a muscle of her face stirs; and yet this sonnet must remindher of the fairest and most sacred moment of our love. "

The queen remained unmoved and cold. But had Henry Howard looked at LadyJane Douglas, he would have seen how she turned pale and blushed; howshe smiled with rapture, and how, nevertheless, her eyes filled withtears. 

Earl Surrey, however, saw nothing but the queen; and the sight of hermade him tremble with rage and pain. His eyes darted lightning: hiscountenance glowed with passion; his whole being was in desperate, enthusiastic excitement. At that moment he would have gladly breathedout his life at Geraldine's feet, if she would only recognize him--ifshe 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 wouldbreathe out his pain in a last song, and give sound and words to hisdespair and his agony. He could no longer read; but he improvised. 

Like a glowing stream of lava, the words flowed from his lips; in fierydithyrambic, in impassioned hymns, he poured forth his love and pain. The genius of poesy hovered over him and lighted up his noble andthoughtful brow. 

He was radiantly beautiful in his enthusiasm; and even the queen feltherself carried away by his words. His plaints of love, his longingpains, his rapture and his sad fancies, found an echo in her heart. Sheunderstood him; for she felt the same joy, the same sorrow and the samerapture; only she did not feel all this for him. 

But, as we have said, he enchanted her; the current of his passioncarried her away. She wept at his laments; she smiled at his hymns ofjoy. 

When Henry Howard at length ceased, profound silence reigned in the vastand brilliant hall. 

All faces betrayed deep emotion; and this universal silence was thepoet's fairest triumph; for it showed that envy and jealousy were dumb, and that scorn itself could find no words. 

A momentary pause ensued; it resembled that sultry, ominous stillnesswhich is wont to precede the bursting of a tempest; when Nature stops amoment in breathless stillness, to gather strength for the uproar of thestorm. 

It was a significant, an awful pause; but only a few understood itsmeaning. 

Lady Jane leaned against the wall, completely shattered and breathless. She felt that the sword was hanging over their heads, and that it woulddestroy her if it struck her beloved. 

Earl Douglas and the Bishop of Winchester had involuntarily drawnnear each other, and stood there hand in hand, united for this unholystruggle; while John Heywood had crept behind the king's throne, and inhis sarcastic manner whispered in his ear some epigrams, that made theking smile in spite of himself. 

But now the queen arose from her seat, and beckoned Henry Howard nearerto her. 

"My lord, " said she, almost with solemnity, "as a queen and as a womanI thank you for the noble and sublime lyrics which you have composed inhonor of a woman! And for that the grace of my king has exalted me to bethe first woman in England, it becomes me, in the name of all women, toreturn to you my thanks. To the poet is due a reward other than that ofthe warrior. To the victor on the battlefield is awarded a laurel crown. But you have gained a victory not less glorious, for you have conqueredhearts! We acknowledge ourselves vanquished, and in the name of allthese noble women, I proclaim you their knight! In token of which, accept this rosette, my lord. It entitles you to wear the queen'scolors; 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 toreceive this precious and coveted pledge. 

But at this moment the king arose, and, with an imperious gesture, heldback the queen's hand. 

"Allow me, my lady, " said he, in a voice quivering with rage--"allowme first to examine this rosette, and convince myself that it is worthenough to be presented to the noble earl as his sole reward. Let me seethis rosette. "

Catharine looked with astonishment into that face convulsed with passionand fury, but without hesitation she handed him the rosette. 

"We are lost!" murmured Earl Surrey, while Earl Douglas and Gardinerexchanged with each other looks of triumph; and Jane Douglas murmured inher trembling heart prayers of anxiety and dread, scarcely hearingthe malicious and exultant words which the Duchess of Richmond waswhispering in her ear. 

The king held the rosette in his hand and examined it. But his handstrembled so much that he was unable to unfasten the clasp which held ittogether. 

He, therefore, handed it to John Heywood. "These diamonds are poor, "said he, in a curt, dry tone. "Unfasten the clasp, fool; we will replaceit with this pin here. Then will the present gain for the earl a doublevalue; for it will come at the same time from me and from the queen. "

"How gracious you are to-day!" said John Heywood, smiling--"as graciousas the cat, that plays a little longer with the mouse before she devoursit. "

"Unfasten the clasp!" exclaimed the king, in a thundering voice, nolonger able to conceal his rage. Slowly John Heywood unfastenedthe clasp from the ribbon. He did it with intentional slowness anddeliberation; he let the king see all his movements, every turn of hisfingers; and it delighted him to hold those who had woven this plot indreadful suspense and expectation. 

Whilst he appeared perfectly innocent and unembarrassed, his keen, piercing glance ran over the whole assembly, and he noticed well thetrembling impatience of Gardiner and Earl Douglas; and it did not escapehim how pale Lady Jane was, and how full of expectation were the intentfeatures of the Duchess of Richmond. 

"They are the ones with whom this conspiracy originated, " said JohnHeywood to himself. "But I will keep silence till I can one day convictthem. "

"There, here is the clasp!" said he then aloud to the king. "It stuck astightly in the ribbon as malice in the hearts of priests and courtiers!"

The king snatched the ribbon out of his hand, and examined it by drawingit through his fingers. 

"Nothing! nothing at all!" said he, gnashing his teeth; and now, deceived in his expectations and suppositions, he could no longer musterstrength to withstand that roaring torrent of wrath which overflowed hisheart. The tiger was again aroused in him; he had calmly waited forthe moment when the promised prey would be brought to him; now, when itseemed to be escaping him, his savage and cruel disposition started upwithin him. The tiger panted and thirsted for blood; and that he was notto get it, made him raging with fury. 

With a wild movement he threw the rosette on the ground, and raised hisarm menacingly toward Henry Howard. "Dare not to touch that rosette, "cried he, in a voice of thunder, "before you have exculpated yourselffrom the guilt of which you are accused. "

Earl Surrey looked him steadily and boldly in the eye. "Have I beenaccused, then?" asked he. "Then I demand, first of all, that I beconfronted with my accusers, and that my fault be named!"

"Ha, traitor! Do you dare to brave me?" yelled the king, stampingfuriously with his foot. "Well, now, I will be your accuser and I willbe your judge!"

"And surely, my king and husband, you will be a righteous judge, " saidCatharine, as she inclined imploringly toward the king and grasped hishand. "You will not condemn the noble Earl Surrey without having heardhim; and if you find him guiltless, you will punish his accusers?"

But this intercession of the queen made the king raging. He threw herhand from him, and gazed at her with looks of such flaming wrath, thatshe involuntarily trembled. 

"Traitoress yourself!" yelled he, wildly. "Speak not of innocence--youwho are yourself guilty; and before you dare defend the earl, defendyourself!"

Catharine rose from her seat and looked with flashing eyes into theking's face blazing with wrath. "King Henry of England, " said she, solemnly, "you have openly, before your whole court, accused your queenof a crime. I now demand that you name it!"

She was of wondrous beauty in her proud, hold bearing--in her imposing, majestic tranquillity. 

The decisive moment had come, and she was conscious that her life andher future were struggling with death for the victory. 

She looked over to Thomas Seymour, and their eyes met. She saw how helaid his hand on his sword, and nodded to her a smiling greeting. 

"He will defend me; and before he will suffer me to be dragged to theTower, he himself will plunge his sword into my 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 decisivemoment came. She looked with a smile on the blade which he hadalready half drawn from its scabbard; and she hailed it as a dear, long-yearned-for friend. 

She saw not that Henry Howard also had lain his hand on his sword; thathe, too, was ready for her defence, firmly resolved to slay the kinghimself, before his mouth uttered the sentence of death over the queen. 

But Lady Jane Douglas saw it. She understood how to read the earl'scountenance; 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 and her love; and, forgetting all else besides these, she hastened forward, and was nowstanding by Henry Howard. 

"Be prudent, Earl Surrey, " said she, in a low whisper. "Take your handfrom your sword. The queen, by my mouth, commands you to do so!"

Henry Howard looked at her astonished and surprised; but he let his handslip from the hilt of his sword, and again looked toward the queen. 

She had repeated her demand; she had once more demanded of theking--who, speechless and completely overcome with anger, had fallenback 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 yoursleeping-room. It is alleged that you sometimes leave it for many hours;and that none of your women accompanied you when you glided through thecorridors and up the secret stairs to the lonely tower, in which, waswaiting for you your lover, who at the same time entered the towerthrough the small street door. "

"He knows all!" muttered Henry Howard; and again he laid his hand on hissword, and was about to approach the queen. 

Lady Jane held him back. "Wait for the issue, " said she. "There is stilltime to die!"

"He knows all!" thought the queen also; and now she felt within herselfthe daring courage to risk all, that at least she might not stand therea traitoress in the eyes of her lover. 

"He shall not believe that I have been untrue to him, " thought she. "Iwill tell all--confess all, that he may know why I went and whither. "

"Now answer, my Lady Catharine!" thundered the king. "Answer, and tellme whether you have been falsely accused. Is it true that you, eight days ago, in the night between Monday and Tuesday, left yoursleeping-room at the hour of midnight, and went secretly to the lonelytower? 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, thatyou dare thus insult your own wife!" cried she. 

"Answer me! You were not on that night in your sleeping-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 fromhis lips. It made the women turn pale, and even the men felt themselvestremble. 

Catharine alone had not heeded it at all; she alone had heard nothingsave that cry of amazement which Thomas Seymour uttered; and she sawonly the angry and up-braiding looks which he threw across at her. Sheanswered these looks with a friendly and confident smile, and pressedboth 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 fearful, threatening coolness. 

"You confess, then, " asked he, "that you were not in your sleeping-roomon that night?"

"I have already said so, " exclaimed Catharine, impatiently. The kingcompressed his lips so violently, that they bled. "And a man was withyou?" asked he--"a man with whom you made an assignation, and whom youreceived in the lonely tower?"

"A man was with me. But I did not receive him in the lonely tower; andit was no assignation. "

"Who was that man?" yelled the king. "Answer me! Tell me his name, ifyou do not want me to strangle you myself!"

"King Henry, I fear death no longer!" said Catharine, with acontemptuous 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 thewhole assembly. 

"The man, " said she, solemnly, "who was with me on that night--he isnamed--"

"He is named John Heywood!" said this individual; as he seriously andproudly walked forward from behind the king's throne. "Yes, Henry, yourbrother, the fool John Heywood, had on that night the proud honor ofaccompanying your consort on her holy errand; but, I assure you, that hewas less like the king, than the king is just now like the fool. "

A murmur of surprise ran through the assembly. The king leaned backin his royal seat speechless. "And now, King Henry, " said Catharine, calmly--"now I will tell you whither I went with John Heywood on thatnight. "

She was silent, and for a moment leaned back on her seat. She felt thatthe looks of all were directed to her; she heard the king's wrathfulgroan; she felt her lover's flashing, reproachful glances; she saw thederisive smile of those haughty ladies, who had never forgiven her--thatshe, from a simple baroness, had become queen. But all this made heronly still bolder and more courageous. 

She had arrived at the turning-point of her life, where she must riskeverything to avoid sinking into the abyss. 

But Lady Jane also had arrived at such a decisive moment of herexistence. She, too, said to herself: "I must at this hour risk all, ifI 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 conspiracywould be revealed to him. 

She must, therefore, anticipate the queen. She must warn Henry Howard. 

"Fear nothing!" whispered she to him. "We were prepared for that. I haveput into her hands the means of escape!"

"Will you now at last speak?" exclaimed the king, quivering withimpatience and rage. "Will you at last tell us where you were on thatnight?"

"I will tell!" exclaimed Catharine, rising up again boldly andresolutely "But woe be to those who drive me to this! For I tell youbeforehand, from the accused I will become an accuser who demandsjustice, if not before the throne of the King of England, yet before thethrone of the Lord of all kings! King Henry of England, do you ask mewhither I went on that night with John Heywood? I might, perhaps, asyour queen and consort, demand that you put this question to me notbefore so many witnesses, but in the quiet of our chamber; but you seekpublicity, and I do not shun it. Well, hear the truth, then, all ofyou! On that night, between Monday and Tuesday, I was not in mysleeping-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, mylord and husband, who this dying woman was? It was Anne Askew!"

"Anne Askew!" exclaimed the king in astonishment; and his countenanceexhibited a less wrathful expression. 

"Anne Askew!" muttered the others; and John Heywood very well saw howBishop Gardiner's brow darkened, and how Chancellor Wriothesley turnedpale and cast down his eyes. 

"Yes, I was with Anne Askew!" continued the queen--"with Anne Askew, whomthose pious and wise lords yonder had condemned, not so much on accountof her faith, but because they knew that I loved her. Anne Askew was todie, because Catharine Parr loved her! She was to go to the stake, thatmy heart also might burn with fiery pains! And because it was so, Iwas obliged to risk everything in order to save her. Oh, my king, sayyourself, did I not owe it to this poor girl to try everything in orderto save her? On my account she was to suffer these tortures. For theyhad shamefully stolen from me a letter which Anne Askew, in the distressof her heart, had addressed to me; and they showed this letter to you inorder to cast suspicion on me and accuse me to you. But your noble heartrepelled the suspicion; and now their wrath fell again on Anne Askew, and she must suffer, because they did not find me punishable. She mustatone for having dared to write to me. They worked matters with youso that she was put to the rack. But when my husband gave way to theirurging, 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 knowthat?" asked he. "And yet we were alone, and no human being present. Whocould tell you that?"

"When man is no longer able to help, then God undertakes!" saidCatharine solemnly. "It was God who commanded me to go to Anne Askew, and try whether I could save her. And I went. But though the wife ofa noble and great king, I am still but a weak and timid woman. I wasafraid to tread this gloomy and dangerous path alone; I needed a strongmanly arm to lean upon; and so John Heywood lent me his. "

"And you were really with Anne Askew, " interposed the king, thoughtfully--"with that hardened sinner, who despised mercy, and in thestubbornness of her soul would not be a partaker of the pardon that Ioffered her?"

"My lord and husband, " said the queen, with tears in her eyes, "she whomyou have just accused stands even now before the throne of the Lord, andhas received from her God the forgiveness of her sins! Therefore, do youlikewise pardon her; and may the flames of the stake, to which yesterdaythe noble virgin body of this girl was bound, have consumed also thewrath and hatred which had been kindled in your heart against her! AnneAskew passed away like a saint; for she forgave all her enemies andblessed her tormentors. "

"Anne Askew was a damnable sinner, who dared resist the command of herlord and king!" interrupted Bishop Gardiner, looking daggers at her. 

"And dare you maintain, my lord, that you at that time fulfilled thecommands of your royal master simply and exactly?" asked Catharine. "Didyou keep within them with respect to Anne Askew? No! I say; for the kinghad not ordered you to torture her; he had not bidden you to lacerate inblasphemous wrath a noble human form, and distort that likeness of Godinto a horrible caricature. And that, my lord, you did! Before God andyour king, I accuse you of it--I, the queen! For you know, my lord andhusband, I was there when Anne Askew was racked. I saw her agony, andJohn Heywood saw it with me. "

The eyes of all were now directed inquiringly to the king, of whoseferocity and choler every one expected a violent outbreak. 

But this time they were mistaken. The king was so well satisfied to findhis consort clear of the crime laid to her charge, that he willinglyforgave her for having committed a crime of less weighty character. Besides, it filled him with respect to see his consort confronting heraccusers so boldly and proudly; and he felt toward them just as burningwrath and hatred as he had before harbored against the queen. He waspleased that the malignant and persistent persecutors of his fair andproud wife should now be humbled by her before the eyes of all hiscourt. 

Therefore he looked at her with an imperceptible smile, and said withdeep interest: "But how could this happen, my lady? By what path did youget 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 aslight smile. 

John Heywood, who was still standing behind the king's throne, now bentdown 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 thebystanders could very well understand him: "By God, she is a spiritedand brave woman; and we should be obliged to confess that, even were shenot our queen!"

"Continue, my lady!" said he then aloud, turning to the queen witha gracious look. "Relate to me, Catharine, what saw you then in thetorture-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 infearful agony, and whose staring eyes were raised in mute supplicationto Heaven. She did not beg her tormentors for mercy; she wanted fromthem no compassion and no pity; she did not scream and whine from thepain, 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 totouch 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 dothis--they racked her. But her soul was strong and full of courage;and, under the tortures of the executioner, her lips remained mute. Lettheologians say and determine whether Anne Askew's faith was a falseone; but this they will not dare deny: that in the noble enthusiasmof this faith, she was a heroine who at least did not deny her God. At length, worn out with so much useless exertion, the assistantexecutioners discontinued their bloody work, to rest from the tortureswhich they had prepared for Anne Askew. The lieutenant of the Towerdeclared the work of the rack ended. The highest degrees had beenapplied, and they had proved powerless; cruelty was obliged toacknowledge itself conquered. But the priests of the Church, with savagevehemence, demanded that she should be racked once more. Dare denythat, ye lords, whom I behold standing there opposite with faces paleas death! Yes, my king, the servants of the rack refused to obey theservants of God; for in the hearts of the hangman's drudges there wasmore pity than in the hearts of the priests! And when they refused toproceed in their bloody work, and when the lieutenant of the Tower, invirtue of the existing law, declared the racking at an end, then Isaw one of the first ministers of our Church throw aside his sacredgarments; then the priest of God transformed himself into a hangman'sdrudge, who, with bloodthirsty delight, lacerated anew the noble mangledbody of the young girl, and more cruel than the attendants of the rack, unsparingly they broke and dislocated the limbs, which they hadonly squeezed in their screws. [Footnote: Burnet's "History of theReformation, " vol. I, p. 132. ] Excuse me, my king, from sketching thisscene of horror still further! Horrified and trembling, I fled from thatfrightful 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 andcolorless. Gardiner and Wriothesley stood with their eyes fixed, gloomyand defiant, expecting that the king's wrath would crush and destroythem. 

But the king scarcely thought of them; he thought only of his fair youngqueen, whose boldness inspired him with respect, and whose innocence andpurity filled him with a proud and blissful joy. 

He was, therefore, very much inclined to forgive those who in realityhad committed no offence further than this, that they had carried out alittle too literally and strictly the orders of their master. 

A long pause had ensued--a pause full of expectation and anxiety for allwho were assembled in the hall. Only Catharine reclined calmly in herchair, and with beaming eyes looked across to Thomas Seymour, whosehandsome countenance betrayed to her the gratification and satisfactionwhich he felt at this clearing up of her mysterious night-wandering. 

At last the king arose, and, bowing low before his consort, said ina loud, full-toned voice: "I have deeply and bitterly injured you, mynoble wife; and as I publicly accused you, I will also publicly ask yourforgiveness! 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 ofmy wife. My lady, you have made a brilliant vindication of yourself; andI, the king, first of all bow before you, and beg that you may forgiveme and impose some penance. "

"Leave it to me, queen, to impose a penance on this repentant sinner!"cried John Hey wood, gayly. "Your majesty is much too magnanimous, muchtoo 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 topunish the king after his deserts. "

Catharine nodded to him with a grateful smile. She comprehendedperfectly John Heywood's delicacy and nice tact; she apprehended that hewanted by a joke to relieve her from her painful situation, and put anend to the king's public acknowledgment, which at the same time mustturn to her bitter reproach--bitter, though it were only self-reproach. 

"Well, " said she, smiling, "what punishment, then, will you impose uponthe king?"

"The punishment of recognizing the fool as his equal!"

"God is my witness that I do so!" cried the king, almost solemnly. "Fools we are, one and all, and we fall short of the renown which wehave before men. "

"But my sentence is not yet complete, brother!" continued John Heywood. "I furthermore give sentence, that you also forthwith allow me to recitemy poem to you, and that you open your ears in order to hear what JohnHeywood, 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 oflampoons and jokes, at which your eyes are to overflow, yet not withweeping, but with laughter. To the right noble Earl of Surrey belongsthe proud honor of having presented to our happy England her firstsonnets. Well, now, I also will give her something new. I present herthe first comedy; and as he sings the beauty of his Geraldine, so Icelebrate the fame of Gammer Gurton's sewing-needle--Gammer Gurton'sneedle--so my piece is called; and you, King Henry, shall listen to itas a punishment 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 conditionfor you, queen! Kate, you have disdained to impose a penance on me, butgrant me at least the pleasure of being allowed to fulfil some wish ofyours! 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 forgivethose whom I accused, only because their accusation was my vindication. They who brought charges against me have in this hour felt contritionfor 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, ashis glance swept over toward Gardiner with an almost contemptuousexpression, he continued: "Your request is granted. But woe to them whoshall dare accuse you again! And have you nothing further to demand, Kate?"

"Nay, one thing more, my lord and husband!" She leaned nearer to theking's ear, and whispered: "They have also accused your noblest andmost 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 with Cranmer yourself. Tell him of what they have charged him, andhear his vindication. "

"It shall be so, Kate, " said the king, "and you shall be present! Butlet this be a secret between us, Kate, and we will carry it outin perfect silence. And now, then, John Heywood, let us hear yourcomposition; and woe to you, if it does not accomplish what youpromised--if it does not make us laugh! For you well know that you arethen inevitably exposed 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 Heywood, gayly, as he drew out his manuscript. 

Soon the hall rang again with loud laughter; and in the universalmerriment no one observed that Bishop Gardiner and Earl Douglas slippedquietly away. 

In the anteroom without, they stopped and looked at each other long andsilently; their countenances expressed the wrath and bitterness whichfilled them; and they understood this mute language of their features. 

"She must die!" said Gardiner in a short and quick tone. "She has foronce escaped from our snares; we will tie them all the tighter nexttime!"

"And I already hold in my hand the threads out of which we will formthese snares, " said Earl Douglas. "We have to-day falsely accused herof a love-affair. When we do it again, we shall speak the truth. Did yousee the looks that Catharine exchanged with the heretical Earl Sudley, Thomas Seymour?"

"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 he raised his eyes devoutlyto heaven. "Amen! The queen has grievously and bitterly injured usto-day; she has insulted and abused us before all the court. We willrequite her for it some day! The torture-chamber, which she has depictedin such lively colors, may yet one day open for her, too--not that shemay behold another's agonies, but that she may suffer agonies herself. We shall one day avenge ourselves!"

CHAPTER XXVI. REVENGE. 

Miss Holland, the beautiful and much-admired mistress of the Duke ofNorfolk, was alone in her magnificently adorned boudoir. It was the hourwhen ordinarily the duke was wont to be with her; for this reasonshe was charmingly attired, and had wrapped herself in that light andvoluptuous negligee which the duke so much liked, because it set off toso much advantage the splendid form of his friend. 

But to-day the expected one did not make his appearance: in his steadhis valet had just come and brought the fair miss a note from hismaster. This note she was holding in her hand, while with passionateviolence she now walked up and down her boudoir. A glowing crimsonblazed upon her cheeks, and her large, haughty eyes darted wild flashesof wrath. 

She was disdained--she, Lady Holland, was forced to endure the disgraceof being dismissed by her lover. 

There, there, in that letter which she held in her hand, and whichburned 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 hereleased her. 

Her whole frame shook as she thought of this. It was not the anguish ofa loving heart which made her tremble; it was the wounded pride of thewoman. 

He had abandoned her. Her beauty, her youth no longer had the power toenchain him--the man with white hairs and withered features. 

He had written her that he was satiated and weary, not of her, but onlyof love in general; that his heart had become old and withered like hisface: and that there was still in his breast no more room for love, butonly for ambition. 

Was not that a revolting, an unheard-of outrage--to abandon the finestwoman in England for the sake of empty, cold, stern ambition?

She opened the letter once more. Once more she read that place. Thengrinding her teeth with tears of anger in her eyes: "He shall pay me forthis! I will take vengeance for this insult!" She thrust the letter intoher bosom, and touched the silver bell. 

"Have my carriage brought round!" was her order to the servant whoentered; and he withdrew in silence. 

"I will avenge myself!" muttered she, as with trembling hands shewrapped herself in her large Turkish shawl. "I will avenge myself; and, by the Eternal! it shall be a bloody and swift vengeance! I will showhim that I, too, am ambitious, and that my pride is not to be humbled. He says he will forget me. Oh, I will compel him to think of me, eventhough it be only to curse me!"

With hasty step she sped through the glittering apartments, which theliberality of her lover had furnished so magnificently, and descended tothe carriage standing ready for her. 

"To the Duchess of Norfolk's!" said she to the footman standing at thedoor of the carriage, as she entered it. 

The servant looked at her in astonishment and inquiringly. 

"To the Duke of Norfolk; is it not, my lady?"

"No, indeed, to the duchess!" cried she with a frown, as she leaned backon the cushion. 

After a short time, the carriage drew up before the palace of theduchess, and with haughty tread and commanding air she passed throughthe porch. 

"Announce me to the duchess immediately, " was her order to the lackeywho was hurrying to meet her. 

"Your name, my lady?"

"Miss Arabella Holland. "

The servant stepped back, and stared at her in surprise. 

"Miss Arabella Holland! and you order me to announce you to theduchess?"

A contemptuous smile played a moment about the thin lips of thebeautiful miss. "I see you know me, " said she, "and you wonder a littleto see me here. Wonder as much as you please, good friend; only conductme immediately to the duchess. "

"I doubt whether her ladyship receives calls to-day, " stammered theservant, 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; andhe could not summon up courage to gainsay this proud beauty. 

In silence they traversed the suite of stately apartments, and at lengthstood before a door hung with tapestry. 

"I must beg you to wait here a moment, my lady, so that I can announceyou to the duchess, who is there in her boudoir. "

"No, indeed; I will assume that office myself, " said Miss Holland, aswith strong hand she pushed back the servant and opened the door. 

The duchess was sitting at her writing-table, her back turned to thedoor through which Arabella had entered. She did not turn round; perhapsshe had not heard the door open. She continued quietly writing. 

Miss Arabella Holland with stately step crossed the room, and now stoodclose 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 sheamazed, and hastily rising. "Miss Holland! you here with me, in myhouse! What do you want here? How dare you cross my threshold?"

"I see you still hate me, my lady, " said Arabella, smiling. "You havenot yet forgiven me that the duke, your husband, found more delightin my young, handsome face, than in yours, now growing old--that mysprightly, wanton disposition pleased him better than your cold, statelyair. "

The duchess turned pale with rage, and her eyes darted lightning. "Silence, you shameless creature! silence, or I will call my servants torid me of you!"

"You will not call them; for I have come to be reconciled with you, andto offer you peace. "

"Peace with you!" sneered the duchess--"peace with that shameless womanwho stole from me my husband, the father of my children?--who loaded mewith the disgrace of standing before the whole world as a repudiated anddespised wife, and of suffering myself to be compared with you, that theworld might decide which of us two was worthier of his love? Peacewith you, Miss Holland?--with the impudent strumpet who squanders myhusband's means in lavish luxury, and, with scoffing boldness, robs mychildren of their lawful property?"

"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 arevery magnificently fitted up; and every one knows that the Duchess ofNorfolk is rich enough to be able to spare the trifles that her husbandlaid at my feet. By Heaven! my lady, I would not have deemed it worththe trouble to stoop for them, if I had not seen among these trifles hisheart. The heart of a man is well worth a woman's stooping for! You haveneglected that, my lady, and therefore you lost your husband's heart. Ipicked it up. That is all. Why will you make a crime of that?"

"That is enough!" cried the duchess. "It does not become me to disputewith you; I desire only to know what gave you the courage to come tome?"

"My lady, do you hate me only? Or do you also hate the duke yourhusband?"

"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 Idespise 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 uponme. "

"Then, my lady, we shall soon understand each other; for I too hatehim, " 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, stillmore 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 inthe 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. Heis a traitor, a perfidious wretch, a perjurer. I will take vengeance formy disgrace!"

"Ah, has he then deserted you also?"

"He has deserted me also. "

"Well, then, God be praised!" cried the duchess, and her face beamedwith joy. "God is great and just; and He has punished you with the sameweapons with which you sinned! For your sake, he deserted me; and forthe sake of another woman, he forsakes you. "

"Not so, my lady!" said Miss Holland, proudly. "A woman like me is notforsaken on account of a woman; and he who loves me will love no otherafter 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 readit. 

"I will have revenge, my lady! He says he no longer has a heart tolove; well, now, we will so manage, that he may no longer have a head tothink. Will you be my ally, my lady?"

"I will. "

"And I also will be, " said the Duchess of Richmond, who just then openedthe door and came out of the adjoining room. 

Not a word of this entire conversation had escaped her, and she verywell 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 tostrike her enemy a mortal blow. 

"Yes, I too will be your ally, " cried the Duchess of Richmond; "we haveall three been outraged by the same man. Let, then, our revenge be acommon one. The father has insulted you; the son, me. Well, then, Iwill help you to strike the father, if you in return will assist me todestroy the son. "

"I will assist you, " said Arabella, smiling; "for I also hate thehaughty Earl of Surrey, who prides himself on his virtue, as if it werea 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 blamefor his father's faithlessness. "

"I was present when with tears he besought the duke, our father, to freehimself from your fetters, and give up this shameful and disgracefulconnection 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 angry with him, do you ask, my mother? I am not angry withhim; but I execrate him, and I have sworn to myself never to rest tillI have avenged myself. My happiness, my heart, and my future, lay inhis hands; and he has remorselessly trodden under his haughty feetthese--his sister's precious treasures. It lay with him to make me thewife of the man I love; and he has not done it, though I lay at his feetweeping and wringing my hands. "

"But it was a great sacrifice that you demanded, " said her mother. "Hehad to give his hand to a woman he did not love, so that you might beThomas Seymour's wife. "

"Mother, you defend him; and yet he it is that blames you daily; and butyesterday it seemed to him perfectly right and natural that the duke hadforsaken you, our mother. "

"Did he do that?" inquired the duchess, vehemently. "Well, now, as hehas 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 andson!"

She held out both hands, and the two young women laid their hands inhers. 

"Vengeance on father and son!" repeated they both; and their eyesflashed, and crimson now mantled their cheeks. 

"I am tired of living like a hermit in my palace, and of being banishedfrom court by the fear that I may encounter my husband there. "

"You shall encounter him there no more, " said her daughter, laconically. 

"They shall not laugh and jeer at me, " cried Arabella. "And when theylearn that he has forsaken me, they shall also know how I have avengedmyself for it. "

"Thomas Seymour can never become my husband so long as Henry Howardlives; for he has mortally offended him, as Henry has rejected the handof his sister. Perhaps I may become his wife, if Henry Howard is nomore, " 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 theirsuccess, " said Arabella, shrugging her shoulders. "We live--God bepraised for it--under a noble and high-minded king, who beholds theblood of his subjects with as much pleasure as he does the crimson ofhis royal mantle, and who has never yet shrunk back when a death-warrantwas to be signed. "

"But this time he will shrink back, " said the old duchess. "He will notdare to rob the noblest and most powerful family of his kingdom of itshead. "

"That very risk will stimulate him, " said the Duchess of Richmond, laughing; "and the more difficult it is to bring down these heads, somuch the more impatiently will he hanker after it. The king hates themboth, and he will thank us, if we change his hatred into retributivejustice. "

"Then let us accuse both of high treason!" cried Arabella. "The duke isa traitor; for I will and can swear that he has often enough called theking a bloodthirsty tiger, a relentless tyrant, a man without truth andwithout faith, although he coquettishly pretends to be the fountain androck of all faith. "

"If he has said that, and you have heard him, you are in duty boundto communicate it to the king, if you do not want to be a traitoressyourself, " exclaimed the young duchess, solemnly. 

"And have you not noticed that the duke has for some time borne thesame coat-of-arms as the king?" asked the Duchess of Norfolk. "It is notenough for his haughty and ambitious spirit to be the first servant ofthis 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 ofher lover. Tell him that the duke bears his coat-of-arms, and hisdestruction 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 dispatch him intoeternity as the hunter's tiny bullet slays the proudest stag. Henryloves the queen; and I will furnish the king proof of that, " said theyoung duchess. 

"Then let us go to the king!" cried Arabella, impetuously. 

"No, indeed! That would make a sensation, and might easily frustrate ourwhole plan, " said the Duchess of Richmond. "Let us first talk with EarlDouglas, and hear his advice. Come; every minute is precious! We owe itto our womanly honor to avenge ourselves. We cannot and will not leaveunpunished those who have despised our love, wounded our honor, andtrodden under foot the holiest ties of nature!"

CHAPTER XXVII. THE ACKNOWLEDGMENT. 

The Princess Elizabeth was sitting in her room, melancholy and absorbedin thought. Her eyes were red with weeping; and she pressed her hand onher heart, as if she would repress its cry of anguish. 

With a disconsolate, perplexed look she gazed around her chamber, andits solitude was doubly painful to her to-day, for it testified to herforsaken condition, to the disgrace that still rested on her. For wereit 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, AnneBoleyn's daughter had seen the light of this world. 

"Anne Boleyn's daughter!" That was the secret of her seclusion. Thatwas why none of the ladies and lords of the court had remembered herbirthday; for that would have been at the same time a remembrance ofAnne Boleyn, of Elizabeth's beautiful and unfortunate mother, who hadbeen made to atone for her grandeur and prosperity by her death. 

Moreover, the king had called his daughter Elizabeth a bastard, andsolemnly declared her unworthy of succeeding to the throne. 

Her birthday, therefore, was to Elizabeth only a day of humiliation andpain. Reclining on her divan, she thought of her despised and joylesspast, of her desolate and inglorious future. 

She was a princess, and yet possessed not the rights of her birth; shewas a young maiden, and yet doomed, in sad resignation, to renounce allthe delights and enjoyments of youth, and to condemn her passionateand ardent heart to the eternal sleep of death. For when the Infante ofSpain sued for her hand, Henry the Eighth had declared that the bastardElizabeth was unworthy of a princely husband. But in order to intimidateother suitors also, he had loudly and openly declared that no subjectshould dare be so presumptuous as to offer his hand to one of hisroyal daughters, and he who dared to solicit them in marriage should bepunished as a traitor. 

So Elizabeth was condemned to remain unmarried; and nevertheless sheloved; nevertheless she harbored only this one wish, to be the wife ofher beloved, and to be able to exchange the proud title of princess forthe name of Countess Seymour. 

Since she loved him, a new world, a new sun had arisen on her; andbefore the sweet and enchanting whispers of her love, even the proud andalluring voices of her ambition had to be silent. She no longer thoughtof it, that she would never be a queen; she was only troubled that shecould not be Seymour's wife. 

She no longer wanted to rule, but she wanted to be happy. But herhappiness reposed on him alone--on Thomas Seymour. 

Such were her thoughts, as she was in her chamber on the morning ofher birthday, alone and lonely; and her eyes reddened by tears, herpainfully convulsed lips, betrayed how much she had wept to-day; howmuch this young girl of fourteen years had already suffered. 

But she would think no more about it; she would not allow the lurking, everywhere-prying, malicious, and wicked courtiers the triumph of seeingthe traces of her tears, and rejoicing at her pains and her humiliation. She was a proud and resolute soul; she would rather have died than tohave 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 forher poor, unfortunate friend, Anne of Cleves, Henry's divorced wife. Butthe work occupied only her fingers, 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-sickheart. 

With streaming tears, and yet smiling and full of sweet melancholy, Elizabeth read these noble and tender poems. It appeared to her as ifPetrarch had only said what she herself so warmly felt. There were herthoughts, her griefs. He had said them in his language; she must nowrepeat them in her own. She seated herself, and with hands tremblingwith enthusiasm, fluttering breath, perfectly excited and glowing, in glad haste she began a translation of Petrarch's first sonnet. [Footnote: Elizabeth, who even as a girl of twelve years old spoke fourlanguages, was very fond of composing verses, and of translating thepoems of foreign authors. But she kept her skill in this respect verysecret, and was always very angry if any one by chance saw one ofher poems. After her death there were found among her papers manytranslations, especially of Petrarch's Sonnets, which were the work ofher earliest youth. --Leti, vol. I, p. 150. ] A loud knock interruptedher; and in the hastily opened door now appeared the lovely form of thequeen. 

"The queen!" exclaimed Elizabeth with delight. "Have you come to me atsuch an early morning hour?"

"And should I wait till evening to wish my Elizabeth happiness on herfestival? Should I first let the sun go down on this day, which gaveto England so noble and so fair a princess?" asked Catharine. "Or youthought, perhaps, I did not know that this was your birthday, and thatto-day my Elizabeth advances from the years of childhood, as a proudmaiden full of hope?"

"Full of hope?" said Elizabeth, sadly. "Anne Boleyn's daughter has nohopes: and when you speak of my birthday, you remind me at the same timeof my despised birth!"

"It shall be despised no longer!" said Catharine, and, as she puther arm tenderly around Elizabeth's neck, she handed her a roll ofparchment. 

"Take that, Elizabeth; and may this paper be to you the promise of ajoyful and brilliant future! At my request, the king has made this law, and he therefore granted me the pleasure of bringing it to you. "

Elizabeth opened the parchment and read, and a radiant expressionoverspread her countenance. 

"Acknowledged! I am acknowledged!" cried she. "The disgrace of my birthis 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. Butthe disgrace of my birth is taken away; and I may freely hold up my headand name my mother's name! Now thou mayst sleep calmly in thy grave, forit is no longer dishonored! Anne Boleyn was no strumpet; she was KingHenry's lawful wife, and Elizabeth is the king's legitimate daughter! Ithank Thee, my God--I thank Thee!" And the young, passionate girl threwherself on her knees, and raised her hands and her eyes to heaven. 

"Spirit of my glorified mother, " said she, solemnly, "I call thee! Cometo me! Overshadow me with thy smile, and bless me with thy breath! QueenAnne of England, thy daughter is no longer a bastard, and no one daresventure 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 Iheard thy voice, which whispered comfort to me; as if I saw thy heavenlyeyes, which poured peace and love into my breast! Oh, abide with me nowalso, my mother--now, when my disgrace is taken away, abide with mein my prosperity; and guard my heart, that it may be kept pure fromarrogance and pride, and remain humble in its joy! Anne Boleyn, theylaid thy beautiful, innocent head upon the block; but this parchmentsets upon it again the royal crown; and woe, woe to those who will nowstill dare insult thy memory!"

She sprang from her knees and rushed to the wall opposite, on which wasa large oil painting, which represented Elizabeth herself as a childplaying with a dog. 

"Oh, mother, mother!" said she, "this picture was the last earthly thingon which thy looks rested; and to these painted lips of thy child thougavest thy last kiss, which thy cruel hangman would not allow to thyliving child. Oh, let me sip up this last kiss from that spot; let metouch 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 thoubelongest to the world and to the light! The king has acknowledged me ashis lawful daughter; he cannot refuse me to have a likeness of my motherin my room. "

As she thus spoke, she pressed on a spring set in the broad gilt frameof the picture; and suddenly the painting was seen to move and slowlyopen like a door, so as to render visible another picture concealedbeneath it, which represented the unfortunate Anne Boleyn in bridalattire, 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! Yetthine enemies succeeded in casting suspicion on thee and bringing theeto the scaffold. Oh, when I behold thee, I shudder; and my own futurerises up before me like a threatening spectre! Who can believe herselfsafe and secure, when Anne Boleyn was not secure; when even she hadto die a dishonorable death? Ah, do but believe me, Elizabeth, it is amelancholy lot to be Queen of England; and often indeed have I asked themorning 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, Elizabeth--of your future and of your fortune. May this document beacceptable to you, and realize all the wishes that slumber in yourbosom!"

"One great wish of mine it has fulfilled already, " said Elizabeth, stilloccupied with the picture. "It allows me to show my mother's likenessunveiled! 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 thispicture. He alone knew the secret of it, and he has faithfully preservedit. "

"Oh, John Heywood is a trusty and true friend, " said Catharine, heartily; "and it was he who assisted me in inclining the king to ourplan and in persuading him to acknowledge you. "

With an unutterable expression Elizabeth presented both hands to her. "Ithank you for my honor, and the honor of my mother, " said she; "I willlove you for it as a daughter; and never shall your enemies find with mean open ear and a willing heart. Let us two conclude with each other aleague offensive and defensive! Lot us keep true to each other; and theenemies of the one shall be the enemies of the other also. And wherewe see danger we will combat it in common; and we will watch over eachother with a true sisterly eye, and warn one another whenever a chanceflash 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, andtrue 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, ofwhich at first you read only the beginning. Do but believe me, it isimportant enough for you to read it quite to the end; for it containsvarious arrangements for your future, and settles on you a suite and ayearly allowance, as is suitable for a royal princess. "

"Oh, what care I for these things?" cried Elizabeth, merrily. "That ismy 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 completereparation to my proud and ambitious Elizabeth. You recollect the answerwhich your father gave to the King of France when he solicited your handfor the dauphin?"

"Do I recollect it!" cried Elizabeth, her features quickly becominggloomy. "King Henry said: 'Anne Boleyn's daughter is not worthy toaccept 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 decreedthat you are permitted to marry only a husband of equal birth; to giveyour hand only to a royal prince, if you would preserve your right ofsucceeding to the throne, Oh, certainly, there could be no more completerecantation of the affront once put upon you. And that he consentedto do this, you owe to the eloquent intercession of a true and trustyfriend; you have John Hey wood to thank for it. "

"John Heywood!" cried Elizabeth, in a bitter tone. 

"Oh, I thank you, queen, that it was not you who determined my father tothis decision. John Heywood did it, and you call him my friend? Yousay that he is a true and devoted servant to us both? Beware of hisfidelity, queen, and build not on his devotedness; for I tell you hissoul is full of falsehood; and while he appears to bow before you inhumbleness, his eyes are only searching for the place on your heel wherehe can strike you most surely and most mortally. Oh, he is a serpent, avenomous serpent; and he has just wounded me mortally and incurably. Butno, " continued she, energetically, "I will not submit to this fraud; Iwill not be the slave of this injurious law! I will be free to love andto hate as my heart demands; I will not be shackled, nor be compelledto renounce this man, whom I perhaps love, and to marry that one, whom Iperhaps abhor. "

With an expression of firm, energetic resolve, she took the roll ofparchment and handed it back to Catharine. "Queen, take this parchmentback again; return it to my father, and tell him that I thank him forhis provident goodness, but will decline the brilliant lot which thisact offers me. I love freedom so much, that even a royal crown cannotallure me when I am to receive it with my hands bound and my heart notfree. "

"Poor child!" sighed Catharine, "you know not, then, that the royalcrown always binds us in fetters and compresses our heart in ironclamps? 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 rightand the power to live according to the dictates of his heart than aprince. "

"Then, " exclaimed Elizabeth, with flashing eyes, "then I renounce themelancholy fortune of being, perchance, one day queen. Then I do notsubscribe to this law, which wants to guide my heart and limit my will. What! shall the daughter of King Henry of England allow her ways to betraced out by a miserable strip of parchment? and shall a sheet ofpaper be able to intrude itself between me and my heart? I am a royalprincess; and why will they compel me to give my hand only to a king'sson? 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 suchconstraint of miserable etiquette. He has loved where he pleased; and noParliament--no law--has been able to hinder him in this respect. I willbe my father's own daughter. I will not submit to this law!"

"Poor child!" said Catharine, "nevertheless you will be obliged to learnwell how to submit; for one is not a princess without paying for it. Noone asks whether our heart bleeds. They throw a purple robe over it, andthough it be reddened with our heart's blood, who then sees and suspectsit? You are yet so young, Elizabeth; you yet hope so much!"

"I hope so much, because I have already suffered so much--my eyes havebeen already made to shed so many tears. I have already in my childhoodhad to take before-hand my share of the pain and sorrow of life; now Iwill demand my share of life's pleasure and enjoyment also. "

"And who tells you that you shall not have it? This love forces on youno 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 aqueen, I should be prouder to choose a husband whom I might make a king, than such a one as would make me a queen. [Footnote: Elizabeth's ownwords, --Leti, vol. Ii, p. 62. ] Oh, say yourself, Catharine, must it notbe a high and noble pleasure to confer glory and greatness on one welove, to raise him in the omnipotence of our love high above all othermen, 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 isours?"

"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 hishand to Anne Boleyn; so thought he when he exalted me to be his queen. But it behooves 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 shethrew herself into Catharine's arms, and hid her blushing face in thequeen's bosom. "Yes, I love! I love like my father--regardless of myrank, of my birth; but feeling only that my lover is of equally highbirth in the nobility of his sentiment, in his genius and noble mind;that he is my superior in all the great and fine qualities which shouldadorn a man, and yet are conferred on so few. Judge now, queen, whetherthat law there can make me happy. He whom I love is no prince--no son ofa king. "

"Poor Elizabeth!" said Catharine, clasping the young girl fervently inher arms. 

"And why do you bewail my fate, when it is in your power to make mehappy?" asked Elizabeth, urgently. 

"It was you who prevailed on the king to relieve me of the disgrace thatrested on me; you will also have power over him to set aside this clausewhich 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 lovewhich is in opposition to this law? Why did you not tell your friendyour dangerous secret?"

"Just because it is dangerous I concealed it from you; and just on thataccount I do not even now mention the name of the loved one. Queen, youshall not through me become a guilty traitoress against your husband;for you well know that he punishes every secret concealed from him as anact of high treason. No, queen; if I am a criminal, you shall not hemy accomplice. Ah, it is always dangerous to be the confidant of such asecret. You see that in John Heywood. He alone was my confidant, and hebetrayed me. I myself put the weapons into his hands, and he turned themagainst me. "

"No, no, " said Catharine, thoughtfully; "John Heywood is true andtrusty, and incapable of treachery. "

"He has betrayed me!" exclaimed Elizabeth, impetuously. "He knew--heonly--that I love, and that my beloved, though of noble, still is not ofprincely birth. Yet it was he, as you said yourself, who moved the kingto introduce this paragraph into the act of succession. "

"Then, without doubt, he has wished to save you from an error of yourheart. "

"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 thisdanger. But oh, Catharine, you are a noble, great and strong woman; youare incapable of such petty fear--such low calculation; therefore, standby me; be my savior and protectress! By virtue of that oath which wehave just now mutually taken--by virtue of that mutual clasp ofthe 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 atsome time, perhaps, able to make him whom I love great and powerful bymy will. Allow me this intoxicating delight of being able with my handto offer to his ambition at once power and glory--it may be even acrown. Oh, Catharine, on my knees I conjure you--assist me to repealthis hated law, which wants to bind my heart and my hand!"

In passionate excitement she had fallen before the queen, and washolding 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 youwill thank me for it one day, if I accede to your wish; and whetheryou will not some time curse this hour which has brought you, perhaps, instead of the hoped-for pleasure, only a knowledge of your delusion andmisery?"

"And were it even so, " cried Elizabeth, energetically, "still it isbetter to endure a wretchedness we ourselves have chosen, than tobe forced to a happy lot. Say, Catharine--say, will you lend me yourassistance? Will you induce the king to withdraw this hated clause? Ifyou do it not, queen, I swear to you, by the soul of my mother, that Iwill 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, thatin youthful presumption might dare wish to fetch the lightnings downfrom heaven, and borrow from Jupiter his thunderbolt. Oh, you are stilltoo young and inexperienced to know that fate regards not our murmursand our sighs, and, despite our reluctance and our refusal, still leadsus in its own ways, not our own. You will have to learn that yet, poorchild!"

"But I will not!" cried Elizabeth, stamping on the floor with all thepettishness of a child. "I will not ever and eternally be the victimof another's will; and fate itself shall not have power to make me itsslave!"

"Well, we will see now, " said Catharine, smiling. "We will try thistime, at least, to contend against fate; and I will assist you if Ican. "

"And I will love you for it as my mother and my sister at once, " criedElizabeth, as 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 giveme the opportunity to show my gratitude, and to reward you for yourmagnanimity and goodness. "

CHAPTER XXVIII. INTRIGUES. 

For a few days past the king's gout had grown worse, and, to his wrathand grief, it confined him as a prisoner to his rolling chair. 

The king was, therefore, very naturally gloomy and dejected, and hurledthe lightnings of his wrath on all those who enjoyed the melancholyprerogative of being in his presence. His pains, instead of softeninghis disposition, seemed only to heighten still more his naturalferocity; and often might be heard through the palace of Whitehall theking's angry growl, and his loud, thundering invectives, which no longerspared any one, nor showed respect for any rank or dignity. 

Earl Douglas, Gardiner, and Wriothesley very well knew how to takeadvantage of this wrathful humor of the king for their purposes, andto afford the cruel monarch, tortured with pain, one satisfaction atleast--the satisfaction of making others suffer also. 

Never had there been seen in England so many burnt at the stake asin those days of the king's sickness; never had the prisons been socrowded; never had so much blood flowed as King Henry now caused to beshed. [Footnote: During the king's reign, and at the instigation of theclergy, twenty-eight hundred persons were burnt and executed, becausethey would not recognize the religious institutions established by theking as the only right and true ones. --Leti, vol. I, p. 34. ] But allthis did not yet suffice to appease the blood-thirstiness of the king, and his friends and counsellors, and his priests. 

Still there remained untouched two mighty pillars of Protestantism thatGardiner and Wriothesley had to overthrow. These were the queen andArchbishop Cranmer. 

Still there were two powerful and hated enemies whom the Seymours hadto overcome; these were the Duke of Norfolk and his son, the Earl ofSurrey. 

But the various parties that in turn besieged the king's ear andcontrolled it, were in singular and unheard-of opposition, and at thesame time inflamed with bitterest enmity, and they strove to supplanteach other in the favor of the king. 

To the popish party of Gardiner and Earl Douglas, everything depended ondispossessing the Seymours of the king's favor; and they, on the otherhand, wanted above all things to continue in power the young queen, already inclined to them, and to destroy for the papists one of theirmost powerful leaders, 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--neverhad he required more Earl Douglas's presence than in those days of hissickness and bodily anguish. 

But there was yet a third party that occupied an important place in theking's favor--a power which every one feared, and which seemed to keepitself perfectly independent and free from all foreign influences. Thispower was John Heywood, the king's fool, the epigrammatist, who wasdreaded by the whole court. 

Only one person had influence with him. John Heywood was the friendof the queen. For the moment, then, it appeared as if the "hereticalparty, " of which the queen was regarded as the head, was the mostpowerful at court. 

It was therefore very natural for the popish party to cherish an ardenthatred against the queen; very natural for them to be contriving newplots and machinations to ruin her and hurl her from the throne. 

But Catharine knew very well the danger that threatened her, and she wason her guard. She watched her every look, her every word; and Gardinerand Douglas could not examine the queen's manner of life each day andhour more suspiciously than she herself did. 

She saw the sword that hung daily over her head; and, thanks toher prudence and presence of mind, thanks to the ever-thoughtfulwatchfulness and cunning of her friend Heywood! she had still known howto avoid the falling of that sword. 

Since that fatal ride in the wood of Epping Forest, she had not againspoken to Thomas Seymour alone; for Catharine very well knew thateverywhere, whithersoever she turned her steps, some spying eye mightfollow her, some listener's ear might be concealed, which might hearher words, however softly whispered, and repeat them where they might beinterpreted into a sentence of death against her. 

She had, therefore, renounced the pleasure of speaking to her loverotherwise than before witnesses, and of seeing him otherwise than in thepresence of her whole court. 

What need had she either for secret meetings? What mattered it to herpure and innocent heart that she was not permitted to be alone with him?Still she might see him, and drink courage and delight from the sightof his haughty and handsome face; still she might be near him, and couldlisten to the music of his voice, and intoxicate her heart with hisfine, euphonious and vigorous discourse. 

Catharine, the woman of eight-and-twenty, had preserved the enthusiasmand innocence of a young girl of fourteen. Thomas Seymour was her firstlove; and she loved him with that purity and guileless warmth which isindeed peculiar to the first love only. 

It sufficed her, therefore, to see him; to be near him; to know thathe loved her; that he was true to her; that all his thoughts and wishesbelonged to her, as hers to him. 

And that she knew. For there ever remained to her the sweet enjoyment ofhis letters--of those passionately written avowals of his love. Ifshe was not permitted to say also to him how warmly and ardently shereturned this love, yet she could write it to him. 

It was John Heywood, the true and discreet friend, that brought herthese letters, and bore her answers to him, stipulating, as a reward forthis dangerous commission, that they both should regard him as the soleconfidant of their love; that both should burn up the letters which hebrought them. He had not been able to hinder Catharine from this unhappypassion, but wanted at least to preserve her from the fatal consequencesof it. Since he knew that this love needed a confidant, he assumedthis role, that Catharine, in the vehemence of her passion and in thesimplicity of her innocent heart, might not make others sharers of herdangerous secret. 

John Heywood therefore watched over Catharine's safety and happiness, as she watched over Thomas Seymour and her friends. He protected andguarded her with the king, as she guarded Cranmer, and protected himfrom the constantly renewed assaults of his enemies. 

This it was that they could never forgive the queen--that shehad delivered Cranmer, the noble and liberal-minded Archbishop ofCanterbury, from their snares. More than once Catharine had succeededin destroying their intriguing schemes, and in rending the nets thatGardiner and Earl Douglas, with so sly and skilful a hand, had spreadfor Cranmer. 

If, therefore, they would overthrow Cranmer, they must first overthrowthe queen. For this there was a real means--a means of destroying atonce the queen and the hated Seymours, who stood in the way of thepapists. 

If they could prove to the king that Catharine entertained criminalintercourse with Thomas Seymour, then were they both lost; then were thepower and glory of the papists secured. 

But whence to fetch the proofs of this dangerous secret, which thecrafty Douglas had read only in Catharine's eyes, and for which he hadno other support than his bare conviction? How should they begin toinfluence the queen to some inconsiderate step, to a speaking witness ofher love?

Time hung so heavily on the king's hands! It would have been so easy topersuade him to some cruel deed--to a hasty sentence of death!

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 andnight--he who examined and sounded his every sigh, each of his softlymurmured words, every twitch of his mouth, every wrinkle of his brow--hewell knew what dark and bloody thoughts stirred the king's soul, andwhose blood it was for which he thirsted. 

The royal tiger would drink the blood of the Howards; and that theystill lived in health, and abundance, and glory, while he, theirking and master, lonely and sad, was tossing on his couch in pain andagony--that was the worm which gnawed at the king's heart, which madehis 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, whenhe rode through the streets of London, was everywhere received withthe acclamations and rejoicing of the people, while he, the king, was aprisoner in his palace. It was a gnawing pain for him to know that HenryHoward, Earl of Surrey, was praised as the handsomest and greatest manof England; that he was called the noblest poet; the greatest scholar;while yet he, the king, had also composed his poems and written hislearned treatises, aye, even a particular devout book, which he hadprinted for his people, and ordered them to read instead of the Bible. [Footnote: Burnet, vol. I, p. 95. ]

It was the Howards who everywhere disputed his fame. The Howardssupplanted him in the favor of his people, and usurped the love andadmiration which were due to the king alone, and which should bedirected toward no one but him. He lay on his bed of pain, and withoutdoubt 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 onhis bed of pain, while the duke, splendid and magnificent, exhibitedhimself to the people and transported them with enthusiasm by thelavish and kingly generosity with which he scattered his money among thepopulace. 

Yes, the Duke of Norfolk was the king's dangerous rival. The crown wasnot secure upon his head so long as the Howards lived. And who couldconjecture whether in time to come, when Henry closed his eyes, theexultant love of the people might not call to the throne the Duke ofNorfolk, or his noble son, the Earl of Surrey, instead of the rightfulheir--instead of the little boy Edward, Henry's only son?

When the king thought of that, he had a feeling as though a stream offire were whirling up to his brain; and he convulsively clenched hishands, and screamed and roared that he would take vengeance--vengeanceon those hated Howards, who wanted to snatch the crown from his son. 

Edward, the little boy of tender age--he alone was the divinelyconsecrated, legitimate heir to the king's crown. It had cost his fatherso great a sacrifice to give his people this son and successor! In orderto do it, he had sacrificed Jane Seymour, his own beloved wife; he hadlet the mother be put to death, in order to preserve the son, the heirof his crown. 

And the people did not once thank the king for this sacrifice that JaneSeymour's husband had made for them. The people received with shouts theDuke of Norfolk, the father of that adulterous queen whom Henry lovedso much that her infidelity had struck him like the stab of a poisoneddagger. 

These were the thoughts that occupied the king on his bed of pain, andupon 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 toGardiner, as they had just again listened to a burst of rage from theirroyal master. "If we would at last succeed in ruining the queen, we mustfirst destroy the Howards. "

The pious bishop looked at him inquiringly, and in astonishment. 

Earl Douglas smiled. "Your highness is too exalted and noble to bealways able to comprehend the things of this world. Your look, whichseeks only God and heaven, does not always see the petty and pitifulthings that happen here on the earth below. "

"Oh, but, " said Gardiner, with a cruel smile, "I see them, and it charmsmy eye when I see how God's vengeance punishes the enemies of the Churchhere on earth. Set up then, by all means, a stake or a scaffold forthese Howards, if their death can be to us a means to our pious andgodly end. You are certain of my blessing and my assistance. Only I donot quite comprehend how the Howards can stand in the way of our plotswhich are formed against the queen, inasmuch as they are numbered amongthe queen's enemies, and profess themselves of the Church in which aloneis salvation. "

"The Earl of Surrey is an apostate, who has opened his ear and heart tothe doctrines of Calvin!"

"Then let his head fall, for he is a criminal before God, and no oneought to have compassion on him! And what is there that we lay to thecharge of the father?"

"The Duke of Norfolk is well-nigh yet more dangerous than his son; foralthough a Catholic, he has not nevertheless the right faith; and hissoul is full of unholy sympathy and injurious mildness. He bewails thosewhose blood is shed because they were devoted to the false doctrine ofthe priests of Baal; and-he calls us both the king's blood-hounds. "

"Well, then, " cried Gardiner with an uneasy, dismal smile, "we willshow him that he has called us by the right name; we will rend him inpieces!"

"Besides, as we have said, the Howards stand in the way of our schemesin relation to the queen, " said Earl Douglas, earnestly. "The king'smind 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 laybefore him; but he does it, as the lion, with utter carelessness andwithout anger, crushes the little mouse that is by chance under hispaws. But if the lion is to rend in pieces his equal, he must beforehandbe put into a rage. When he is raging, then you must let him have hisprey. The Howards shall be his first prey. But, then, we must exertourselves, that when the lion again shakes his mane his wrath may fallupon Catharine Parr and the Seymours. "

"The Lord our God will be with us, and enlighten us, that we may findthe 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 asmile; "and even before this day descends to its close, the gates of theTower will open to receive this haughty and soft-hearted Duke of Norfolkand this apostate Earl Surrey. Perchance we may even succeed in strikingat one blow the queen together with the Howards. See! an equipage stopsbefore the grand entrance, and I see the Duchess of Norfolk and herdaughter, the Duchess of Richmond, getting out of the carriage. Onlysee! they are making signs to us. I have promised to conduct these twonoble and pious ladies to the king, and I shall do so. Whilst we arethere, pray for us, your highness, that our words, like well-aimedarrows, may strike the king's heart, and then rebound upon the queen andthe Seymours!"

CHAPTER XXIX. THE ACCUSATION. 

In vain had the king hoped to master his pains, or at least to forgetthem, while he tried to sleep. Sleep had fled from the king's couch; andas 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 butyesterday that sleep was a thing under his control, and he could summonit to him whenever it seemed good to him. This thought made him ravingwith anger; and grinding his teeth, he muttered: "He can sleep; and I, his lord and king--I am a beggar that in vain whines to God above fora little sleep, a little forgetfulness of his pains! But it is thistraitorous Norfolk that prevents me from sleeping. Thoughts of him keepme awake and restless. And I cannot crush this traitor with these handsof mine; I am a king, and yet so powerless and weak, that I can findno means of accusing this traitor, and convicting him of his sinfuland blasphemous deeds. Oh, where may I find him--that true friend, thatdevoted servant, who ventures to understand my unuttered thoughts, andfulfil the wishes to which I dare not give a name?"

Just as he was thus thinking, the door behind him opened and in walkedEarl Douglas. His countenance was proud and triumphant, and so wild ajoy gleamed from his eyes that even the king was surprised at it. 

"Oh, " said he, peevishly, "you call yourself my friend; and you arecheerful, Douglas, while your king is a poor prisoner whom the gout haschained with brazen bands to this chair. "

"You will recover, my king, and go forth from this imprisonment asthe conqueror, dazzling and bright, that by his appearance under God'sblessing treads all his enemies in the dust--that triumphs over allthose who are against him, and would betray their king!"

"Are there, then, any such traitors, who threaten their king?" askedHenry, with a dark frown. 

"Ay, there are such traitors!"

"Name them to me!" said the king, trembling with passionate impatience. "Name them to me, that my arm may crush them and my avenging justiceovertake the heads of the guilty. "

"It is superfluous to mention them, for you, King Henry, the wise andall-knowing--you know their names. "

And bending down closer to the king's ear, Earl Douglas continued: "KingHenry, I certainly have a right to call myself your most faithful anddevoted servant, for I have read your thoughts. I have understood thenoble grief that disturbs your heart, and banishes sleep from your eyesand 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 venomoussting 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 oncedraw back the foot menaced by the serpent. Great and merciful, like GodHimself, you smiled upon him whom you knew to be your enemy. But I, myking--I have other duties. I am like the faithful dog, that has eyesonly for the safety of his master, and falls upon every one that comesto menace him. I have seen the serpent that would kill you, and I willbruise his head!"

"And what is the name of this serpent of which you speak?" askedthe king; and his heart beat so boisterously that he felt it on histrembling lips. 

"It is called, " said Earl Douglas, earnestly and solemnly--"it is calledHoward!"

The king uttered a cry, and, forgetting his gout and his pains, arosefrom his chair. 

"Howard!" said he, with a cruel smile. "Say you that a Howard threatensour life? Which one is it? Name me the traitor!"

"I name them both--father and son! I name the Duke of Norfolk and theEarl of Surrey! I say that they both are traitors, who threaten the lifeand honor of my king, and with blasphemous arrogance dare stretch outtheir hands even to the crown!"

"Ah, I knew it, I knew it!" screamed the king. "And it was this thatmade 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? Canyou prove that they aim at my crown?"

"I hope to be able to do so, " said Douglas. "To be sure, there are nogreat convincing facts--"

"Oh, " said the king, interrupting him with a savage laugh, "there is noneed of great facts. Give into my hand but a little thread, and I willmake out of it a cord strong enough to haul the father and son up to thegallows at one time. "

"Oh, for the son there is proof enough, " said the earl, with a smile:"and as regards the father, I will produce your majesty some accusersagainst him, who will be important enough to bring the duke also to theblock. Will you allow me to bring them to you immediately?"

"Yes, bring them, bring them!" cried the king. "Every minute is preciousthat may lead these traitors sooner to their punishment. "

Earl Douglas stepped to the door and opened it. Three veiled femalefigures entered and bowed reverentially. 

"Ah, " whispered the king, with a cruel smile, as he sank back again intohis chair, "they are the three Fates that spin the Howards' thread oflife, and will now, it is to be hoped, break it off. I will furnish themwith the scissors for it; and if they are not sharp enough, I will, withmy own royal hands, help them to break the thread. "

"Sire, " said Earl Douglas, as, at a sign from him, the three womenunveiled themselves--"sire, the wife, the daughter, and the mistress ofthe Duke of Norfolk have come to accuse him of high treason. The motherand the sister of the Earl of Surrey are here to charge him with a crimeequally worthy of death. "

"Now verily, " exclaimed the king, "it must be a grievous and blasphemoussin which so much exasperates the temper of these noble women, and makesthem deaf to the voice of nature!"

"It is indeed such a sin, " said the Duchess of Norfolk, in a solemntone; and, approaching a few paces nearer to the king, she continued:"Sire, I accuse the duke, my divorced husband, of high treason anddisloyalty to his king. He has been so bold as to appropriate your ownroyal coat-of-arms; and on his seal and equipage, and over the entranceof his palace, are displayed the arms of the kings of England. "

"That is true, " said the king, who, now that he was certain ofthe destruction of the Howards, had regained his calmness andself-possession, and perfectly reassumed the air of a strict, impartialjudge. "Yes, he bears the royal arms on his shield, but yet, if weremember rightly, the crown and paraph of our ancestor Edward the Thirdare wanting. "

"He has now added this crown and this paraph to his coat-of-arms, " saidMiss Holland. "He says he is entitled to them; for that, like theking, 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 andmaster his equal, " cried the king, coloring up with a grim joy at now atlength having his enemy in his power. 

"He is indeed a traitor, " continued Miss Holland. "Often have I heardhim say he had the same right to the throne of England as Henry theEighth; and that a day might come when he would contend with Henry's sonfor that crown. "

"Ah, " cried the king, and his eyes darted flashes so fierce that evenEarl Douglas shrank before them, "ah, he will contend with my son forthe crown of England! It is well, now; for now it is my sacred duty, asa king and as a father, to crush this serpent that wants to bite me onthe 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 thesewords that he has spoken to you, yet are they sufficient, and will riseup against him, like the hangman's aids who are to conduct him to theblock. "

"But there are yet other proofs, " said Miss Holland, laconically. 

The king was obliged to unbutton his doublet. It seemed as though joywould suffocate him. 

"Name them!" commanded he. 

"He dares deny the king's supremacy; he calls the Bishop of Rome thesole head and holy Father of the Church. "

"Ah, does he so?" exclaimed the king, laughing. "Well, we shall see nowwhether this holy Father will save this faithful son from the scaffoldwhich we will erect for him. Yes, yes, we must give the world a newexample of our incorruptible justice, which overtakes every one, howeverhigh 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 hadplanted so near our throne, that we might lean upon it and supportourselves by it; but justice demands this sacrifice, and we will makeit--not in wrath and spite, but only to meet the sacred and painful dutyof our royalty. We have greatly loved this duke, and it grieves us totear this love from our heart. "

And with his hand, glittering with jewels, the king wiped from his eyesthe tears which were not there. 

"But how?" asked the king, then, after a pause, "will you have thecourage to repeat your accusation publicly before Parliament? Will you, his wife, and you, his mistress, publicly swear with a sacred oath tothe truth of your declaration?"

"I will do so, " said the duchess, solemnly, "for he is no longer myhusband, no longer the father of my children, but simply the enemy of myking; and to serve him is my most sacred duty. "

"I will do so, " cried Miss Holland, with a bewitching smile; "for heis no longer my lover, but only a traitor, an atheist, who is audaciousenough to recognize as the holy head of Christendom that man at Rome whohas dared to hurl his curse against the sublime head of our king. It isthis, indeed, that has torn my heart from the duke, and that has made menow hate him as ardently as I once loved him. "

With a gracious smile, the king presented both his hands to the twowomen. "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 lawfulwidow. And you, Miss Holland, I will leave in undisputed possession ofall the goods and treasures that the enamored duke has given you. "

The two ladies broke out into loud expressions of thanks and intoenthusiastic rapture over the liberal and generous king, who was sogracious as to give them what they already had, and to bestow on themwhat was already their own property. 

"Well, and are you wholly mute, my little duchess, " asked the king aftera pause, turning to the Duchess of Richmond, who had withdrawn to theembrasure 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 andharmless woman; and I understand better how to laugh and joke than totalk much seriously. The two noble and fair ladies have accused theduke, my father; and they have done so in a very dignified and solemnmanner. I wish to accuse my brother, Henry Howard; but you must exerciseforbearance, if my words sound less solemn and elevated. They have toldyou, sire, that the Duke of Norfolk is a traitor and a criminal whodenominates the Pope of Rome, and not you, my exalted king, the head ofthe Church. Now, the Earl of Surrey is neither a traitor nor a papist;and he has neither devised criminal plots against the throne of England, nor has he denied the supremacy of the king. No, sire, the Earl ofSurrey is no traitor and no papist!"

The duchess paused, and looked with a malicious and droll smile into theastonished faces of those present. 

A dark frown gathered on the king's brow, and his eyes, which justbefore had looked so cheerful, were now fixed with an angry expressionon 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 Ialready know--that the Earl of Surrey is a very loyal subject, and aman without any ambition, who neither courts the favor of my people northinks of laying his traitorous hands on my crown?"

The young duchess shook her head with a smile. "I know not whether hedoes all that, " said she. "I have indeed heard that he said, with bitterscorn, that you, my king, wanted to be the protector of religion, yetyou yourself were entirely without religion and without belief. Also, heof late broke out into bitter curses against you, because you had robbedhim of his field-marshal's staff, and given it to Earl Hertford, thatnoble Seymour. Also, he meant to see whether the throne of England wereso firm and steady that it had no need of his hand and his arm to propit. All that I have of course heard from him; but you are right, sire, it is unimportant--it is not worth mentioning, and therefore I do noteven make it as an accusation against him. "

"Ah, you are always a mad little witch, Rosabella!" cried the king, whohad regained his cheerfulness. "You say you will not accuse him, and yetyou make his head a plaything that you poise upon your crimson lips. Buttake care, my little duchess--take care, that this head does not fallfrom your lips with your laughing, and roll down to the ground; for Iwill not stop it--this head of the Earl of Surrey, of whom you say thathe is no traitor. "

"But is it not monotonous and tiresome, if we accuse the father and sonof the same crime?" asked the duchess, laughing. "Let us have a littlevariation. Let the duke be a traitor; the son, my king, is by far aworse criminal!"

"Is there, then, a still worse and more execrable crime than to be atraitor to his king and master, and to speak of the anointed of the Lordwithout reverence and love?"

"Yes, your majesty, there is a still worse crime; and of that I accusethe Earl of Surrey. He is an adulterer!"

"An adulterer!" repeated the king, with an expression of abhorrence. "Yes, my lady, you are right; that is a more execrable and unnaturalcrime, and we shall judge it strictly. For it shall not be said thatmodesty and virtue found no protector in the king of this land, and thathe will not as a judge punish and crash all those who dare sin againstdecency and morals. Oh, the Earl of Surrey is an adulterer, is he?"

"That is to say, sire, he dares with his sinful love to pursue avirtuous and chaste wife. He dares to raise his wicked looks to a womanwho stands as high above him as the sun above mortals, and who, at leastby the greatness and high position of her husband, should be secure fromall impure desires and lustful wishes. "

"Ah, " cried the king, indignantly, "I see already whither that tends. Itis always the same accusation; and now I say, as you did just now, letus 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 whomHenry Howard addresses his love-songs? Shall I tell you the real nameof this woman to whom, in the presence of your sacred person and of yourwhole court, he uttered his passionate protestations of love and hisoath of eternal faithfulness? Well, now, this Geraldine--so adored, sodeified--is the queen!"

"That is not true!" cried the king, crimson with anger; and he clenchedhis hands so firmly about the arms of his chair that it cracked. "Thatis 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 myself that it is thequeen whom he loves, and that Geraldine is only a melodious appellationfor Catharine. "

"He has confessed it to you yourself?" inquired the king, with gaspingbreath. "Ah, he dares love his king's wife? Woe to him, woe!"

He raised his clenched fist threateningly to heaven, and his eyes dartedlightning. "But how!" said he, after a pause--"has he not recently readbefore us a poem to his Geraldine, in which he thanks her for her love, and acknowledges himself eternally her debtor for the kiss she gavehim?"

"He has read before your majesty such a poem to Geraldine. "

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 ownhead shall atone for this accusation!"

"This proof, your majesty, I will give you!" said Earl Douglas, solemnly. "It pleases your majesty, in the fulness of your gentlenessand mercy, to want to doubt the accusation of the noble duchess. Well, now, I will furnish you infallible proof that Henry Howard, Earl ofSurrey, really loves the queen, and that he really dares to extol andadore 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 gaveevidence of so much inward agony and rage, that it struck the earl dumb, and made the cheeks of the ladies turn pale. 

"Douglas, Douglas, beware how you rouse the lion!" gasped the king. "Thelion might rend you yourself in pieces!"

"This very night I will give you the proof that you demand, sire. Thisvery night you shall hear how Earl Surrey, sitting at the feet of hisGeraldine, swears to her his love. "

"It is well!" said the king. "This night, then! Woe to you, Douglas, ifyou cannot redeem your word!"

"I will do so, your majesty. For this, it is only necessary that youwill be graciously pleased to swear to me that you will not, by a sighor a breath, betray yourself. The earl is suspicious; and the fear ofan evil conscience has sharpened his ear. He would recognize you by yoursigh, and his lips would not speak those words and avowals which youdesire to hear. "

"I swear to you that I will not by any sigh or breath betray mypresence!" said the king, solemnly. "I swear this to you by theholy mother of God! But now let that suffice. Air--air--I suffocate!Everything swims before my eyes. Open the window, that a little air mayflow in! Ah! that is good! This air at least is pure, and not infectedwith sin and slander!"

And the king had Earl Douglas roll him to the opened window, andinspired in long draughts that pure fresh air. Then he turned to theladies with an agreeable smile. 

"My ladies, " said he, "I thank you! You have to-day shown yourselves mytrue and devoted friends! I shall ever remember it, and I beg of you, if at any time you need a friend and protector, to apply to us with allconfidence. We shall never forget what great service you have to-dayrendered us. "

He nodded to them in a friendly manner, whilst, with a majestic wave ofthe hand, he dismissed them, and concluded the audience. 

"And now, Douglas, " exclaimed the king, vehemently, as soon as theladies had retired--"now I have had enough of this dreadful torture! Oh, you say I am to punish the traitors--these Surreys--and you inflict onme the most frightful pains of the rack!"

"Sire, there was no other means of delivering up this Surrey to you. Youwere wishing that he were a criminal; and I shall prove to you that heis so. "

"Oh, I shall then be able at least to tread his hated head under myfeet, " said the king, grinding his teeth. "I shall no more tremblebefore this malicious enemy, who goes about among my people with hishypocritical tongue, while I, tortured with pain, sit in the dungeon ofmy sickroom. Yes, yes, I thank you, Douglas, that you will hand him overto 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? Why wasit 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 sodear to my eyes. "

"Sire, I do not by any means say that the queen is guilty. Only therewas no other means to prove to you Earl Surrey's guilt than that youshould hear for yourself his confession of love to the queen. "

"And I will hear it!" cried the king, who had now already overcome thesentimental emotion of his heart. 

"Yes, I will have full conviction of Surrey's guilt; and woe to thequeen, should I find her also guilty! This night, then, earl! Buttill then, silence and secrecy! We will have father and son seized andimprisoned at the same hour; for otherwise the imprisonment of the onemight easily serve as a warning to the other, and he might escape myjust wrath. Ah, they are so sly--these Howards--and their hearts are sofull of cunning and malice! But now they shall escape me no more; nowthey are ours! How it does me good to think that! And how brisklyand lightly my heart leaps! It is as though a stream of new life wererushing through my veins, and a new power were infused into my blood. Oh, it was these Howards that made me sick. I shall be well again when Iknow that they are in the Tower. Yes, yes, my heart leaps with joy, andthis is to be a happy and blessed day. Call the queen hither to me, that I may once more enjoy her rosy face before I make it turn pale withterror. Yes, let the queen come, and let her adorn herself; I want tosee 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 myselfwith her before I make her weep. Ah, know you, Douglas, that there is noenjoyment keener, more devilish, and more heavenly, than to see such aperson who smiles and suspects nothing, while she is already condemned;who still adorns her head with roses, while the executioner is alreadysharpening the axe that is to lay that head low; who still has hopes ofthe future, and of joy and happiness, while her hour of life has alreadyrun out; while I have already bidden her stop and descend into thegrave! So, call the queen to me; and tell her that we are in a merrymood, and want to jest and laugh with her! Call all the ladies and lordsof our court; and have the royal saloons opened; and let them be radiantwith the brilliancy of the lights; and let us have music--loud, crashingmusic--for we want at least to make this a merry day for us since itseems as though we should have a sad and unhappy night. Yes, yes, amerry day we will have; and after that, let come what come may! Thesaloons shall resound with laughter and joyfulness; and naught butrejoicing and fun shall be heard in the great royal saloons. And invitealso the Duke of Norfolk, my noble cousin, who shares with me my royalcoat-of-arms. Yes, invite him, that I may enjoy once more his haughtyand imposing beauty and grandeur before this august sun is extinguishedand leaves us again in night and darkness. Then invite also Wriothesley, the high chancellor, and let him bring with him a few gallant and bravesoldiers of our body-guard. They are to be the noble duke's suite, whenhe wishes to leave our feast and go homeward--homeward--if not to hispalace, yet to the Tower, and to the grave. Go, go, Douglas, and attendto all this for me! And send me here directly my merry fool, JohnHeywood. He must pass away the time for me till the feast begins. Hemust make me laugh and be gay. "

"I will go and fulfil your orders, sire, " said Earl Douglas. "I willorder 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, yourmajesty, if I venture to remind you that you have given me your royalword 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, EarlDouglas, and do what I have bidden you!"

Wholly exhausted by this paroxysm of cruel delight, the king sank backin his seat, and moaning and groaning he rubbed his leg, the piercingpains of which he had for a moment forgotten, but which now reminded himof their presence with so much the more cruel fury. 

"Ah, ah!" moaned the king. "He boasts of being able to sleep when hepleases. Well, this time we will be the one to lull this haughty earl tosleep. 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 withquick, firm step through the suite of royal apartments. A proud, triumphant smile played about his lips, and a joyful expression ofvictory flashed from his eyes. 

"Triumph! triumph! we shall conquer!" said he, as he now entered hisdaughter's chamber and extended his hand to Lady Jane. "Jane, we have atlast reached the goal, and you will soon be King Henry's seventh wife!"

A rosy shimmer flitted for a moment over Lady Jane's pale, colorlesscheeks, and a smile played about her lips--a smile, however, which wasmore sad than loud sobs could have been. 

"Ah, " said she in a low tone, "I fear only that my poor head will be tooweak to wear a royal crown. "

"Courage, courage, Jane, lift up your head, and be again my strong, proud daughter!"

"But, I suffer so much, my father, " sighed she. "It is hell that burnswithin me!"

"But soon, Jane, soon you shall feel again the bliss of heaven! I hadforbidden you to grant Henry Howard a meeting, because it might bring usdanger. Well, then, now your tender heart shall be satisfied. To-nightyou shall embrace your lover again!"

"Oh, " murmured she, "he will again call me his Geraldine, and it willnot 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-dayis the last time that you are obliged to receive him thus. "

"The last time that I see him?" asked Jane, with an expression 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 youindite with so masterly a hand. Invite him to a meeting to-night at theusual time and place. "

"Oh, I shall at last have him again!" whispered Lady Jane; and shestepped to the writing-table and with trembling hand began to write. 

But suddenly she stopped, and looked at her father sharply andsuspiciously. 

"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 thequeen--vengeance for all the agony, the humiliation and despair that youhave suffered by her. To-day she is yet Queen of England! To-morrow shewill be nothing more than a criminal, who sighs in the confinement ofthe Tower for the hour of her execution. And you will be Henry's seventhqueen. Write, then, my daughter, write! And may love dictate to you theproper words!"

CHAPTER XXX. THE FEAST OF DEATH. 

For a long time the king had not appeared in such good spirits as onthis festive evening. For a long time he had not been so completely thetender husband, the good-natured companion, the cheerful bon-vivant. 

The pains of his leg seemed to have disappeared, and even the weight ofhis body seemed to be less burdensome than usual, for more than oncehe rose from his chair, and walked a few steps through the brilliantlylighted saloon, in which the ladies and lords of his court, in festiveattire, were moving gently to and fro; in which music and laughterresounded. How tender he showed himself toward the queen to-day; withwhat extraordinary kindness he met the Duke of Norfolk; with whatsmiling attention, he listened to the Earl of Surrey, as he, at theking's desire, recited some new sonnets to Geraldine!

This marked preference for the noble Howards enraptured the RomanCatholic party at court, and filled it with new hopes and newconfidence. 

But one there was who did not allow himself to be deceived by this maskwhich King Henry had to-day put on over his wrathful face. 

John Heywood had faith neither in the king's cheerfulness nor in histenderness. He knew the king; he was aware that those to whom he wasmost friendly often had the most to fear from him. Therefore, he watchedhim; and he saw, beneath this mask of friendliness, the king's realangry countenance sometimes flash out in a quick, hasty look. 

The resounding music and the mad rejoicing no more deceived JohnHeywood. He beheld Death standing behind this dazzling life; he smeltthe reek of corruption concealed beneath the perfume of these brilliantflowers. 

John Heywood no longer laughed and no longer chatted. He watched. 

For the first time in a long while the king did not need to-day theexciting jest and the stinging wit of his fool in order to be cheerfuland in good humor. 

So the fool had time and leisure to be a reasonable and observant man;and he improved the time. 

He saw the looks of mutual understanding and secure triumph that EarlDouglas exchanged with Gardiner, and it made him mistrustful to noticethat the favorites of the king, at other times so jealous, did not seemto be at all disturbed by the extraordinary marks of favor which theHowards were enjoying this evening. 

Once he heard how Gardiner asked Wriothesley, as he passed by, "And thesoldiers of the Tower?" and how he replied just as laconically, "Theystand near the coach, and wait. "

It was, therefore, perfectly clear that somebody would be committedto prison this very day. There was, therefore, among the laughing, richly-attired, and jesting guests of this court, one who this verynight, when he left these halls radiant with splendor and pleasure, wasto behold the dark and gloomy chambers of the Tower. 

The only question was, who that one was for whom the brilliant comedy ofthis evening was to be changed to so sad a drama. 

John Heywood felt his heart oppressed with an unaccountableapprehension, and the king's extraordinary tenderness toward the queenterrified him. 

As now he smiled on Catharine, as he now stroked her cheeks, so had theking smiled on Anne Boleyn in the same hour that he ordered her arrest;so had he stroked Buckingham's cheek on the same day that he signed hisdeath-warrant. 

The fool was alarmed at this brilliant feast, resounding music, and themad merriment of the king. He was horrified at the laughing faces andfrivolous jests, which came streaming from all those mirthful lips. 

O Heaven! they laughed, and death was in the midst of them; theylaughed, and the gates of the Tower were already opened to admit oneof those merry guests of the king into that house which no one in thosedays of Henry the Eighth left again, save to go to the stake or toascend the scaffold!

Who was the condemned? For whom were the soldiers below at the carriagewaiting? John Heywood in vain racked his brain with this question. 

Nowhere could he spy a trace that might lead him on the right track;nowhere a clew that might conduct him through this labyrinth of horrors. 

"When you are afraid of the devil, you do well to put yourself under hisimmediate protection, " muttered John Heywood; and sad and despondent atheart, he crept behind the king's throne and crouched down by it on theground. 

John Heywood had such a little, diminutive form, and the king'sthrone was so large and broad, that it altogether concealed the littlecrouching fool. 

No one had noticed that John Heywood was concealed there behind theking. Nobody saw his large, keen eyes peeping out from behind the throneand surveying and watching the whole hall. 

John Heywood could see everything and hear everything going on in thevicinity of the king. He could observe every one who approached thequeen. 

He saw Lady Jane likewise, who was standing by the queen's seat. He sawhow Earl Douglas drew near his daughter, and how she turned deadly paleas he stepped up to her. 

John Heywood held his breath and listened. 

Earl Douglas stood near his daughter, and nodded to her with a peculiarsmile. "Go, now, Jane, go and change your dress. It is time. Only seehow impatiently and longingly Henry Howard is already looking this way, and with what languishing and enamored glances he seems to give a hintto the queen. Go then, Jane, and think of your promise. "

"And will you, my father, also think of your promise?" inquired LadyJane, with trembling lips. "Will no danger threaten him?"

"I will, Jane. But now make haste, my daughter, and be prudent andadroit. "

Lady Jane bowed, and murmured a few unintelligible words. Then sheapproached the queen, and begged permission to retire from the feast, because a severe indisposition had suddenly overtaken her. 

Lady Jane's countenance was so pale and deathlike, that the queen mightwell believe in the indisposition of her first maid of honor, and sheallowed her to retire. Lady Jane left the hall. The queen continued theconversation with Lord Hertford, who was standing by her. It was a verylively and warm conversation, and the queen therefore did not heedwhat was passing around her; and she heard nothing of the conversationbetween the king and Earl Douglas. 

John Heywood, still crouching behind the king's throne, observedeverything and heard every word of this softly whispered conversation. 

"Sire, " said Earl Douglas, "it is late and the hour of midnight isdrawing nigh. Will your majesty be pleased to conclude the feast? Foryou well know that at mid-night we must be over there in the greensummer-house, and it is a long way there. "

"Yes, yes, at midnight!" muttered the king. "At midnight the carnivalis at an end; and we shall tear off our mask, and show our wrathfulcountenance to the criminals! At midnight we must be over in the greensummer-house. Yes, Douglas, we must make haste; for it would be cruel tolet the tender Surrey wait still longer. So we will give his Geraldineliberty to leave the feast; and we ourselves must begin our journey. Ah, Douglas, it is a hard path that we have to tread, and the furies andgods of vengeance bear our torches. To work, then--to work!"

The king arose from his seat, and stepped to the queen, to whom hepresented his hand with a tender smile. 

"My lady, it is late, " said he; "and we, who are king of so manysubjects--we are, nevertheless, in turn, the subject of a king. This isthe physician, and we must obey him. He has ordered me to seek my couchbefore 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 morrowalso shine as starlike as they do to-night. "

"They will shine to-morrow as to-night, if my lord and husband is stillas gracious to me to-morrow as to-day, " said Catharine, with perfectartlessness and without embarrassment, as she gave her hand to theking. Henry cast on her a suspicious, searching look, and a peculiar, malicious expression was manifested in his face. 

"Do you believe then, Kate, that we can ever be ungracious to you?"asked he. 

"As to that, I think, " said she, with a smile, "that even the sun doesnot always shine; and that a gloomy night always succeeds his splendor. "

The king did not reply. He looked her steadily in the face, and hisfeatures suddenly assumed a gentler expression. 

Perhaps he had compassion on his young wife. Perhaps he felt pity forher youth and her enchanting smile, which had so often revived andrefreshed his heart. 

Earl Douglas at 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. "Yes once again, good-night, Kate! Nay, do not accompany me! I will leave the hall quiteunobserved; and I shall be pleased, if my guests will still prolongthe fair feast till morning. All of you remain here! No one but Douglasaccompanies me. "

"And your brother, the fool!" said John Heywood, who long before hadcome 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 forwise men of our sort to grant our presence still longer to the feast offools. Come to your couch, king, and I will lull your ear to sleep withthe sayings of my wisdom, and enliven your soul with the manna of mylearning. "

While John Heywood thus spoke, it did not escape him that the featuresof the earl suddenly clouded and a dark frown settled on his brow. 

"Spare your wisdom for to-day, John, " said the king; "for you wouldindeed be preaching only to deaf ears. I am tired, and I require notyour 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 JohnHeywood. "He is afraid the king might blab out to me a little of thatdiabolical work which they will commence at midnight. Well, I call thedevil, as well as the king, my brother, and with his help I too will bein the green-room at midnight. Ah, the queen is retiring; and there isthe Duke of Norfolk leaving the hall. I have a slight longing to seewhether the duke goes hence luckily and without danger, or if thesoldiers who stand near the coach, as Wriothesley says, will perchancebe the duke's bodyguard for this night. "

Slipping out of the hall with the quickness of a cat, John Heywoodpassed 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, andthe duke's tall and proud form appeared in the entrance-hall; and thefootman, 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 stoodbehind as footmen, while a fifth was by the open door of the carriage. 

The duke first noticed him as his foot had already touched the step ofthe carriage. 

"This is not my equipage! These are not my people!" said he; and hetried to step back. But the pretended servant forced him violently intothe carriage and shut the door. "Forward!" ordered he. The carriagerolled on. A moment still, John Heywood saw the duke's pale face appearat the open carriage window, and it seemed to him as though he werestretching out his arms, calling for help--then the carriage disappearedin the night. "Poor duke!" murmured John Heywood. "The gates of theTower are heavy, and your arm will not be strong enough to open themagain, when they have once closed behind you. But it avails nothing tothink more about him now. The queen is also in danger. Away, then, tothe queen!"

With fleet foot John Heywood hastened back into the castle. Throughpassages 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 Heywood, as he hidhimself in one of the niches in the corridor. "The fool by his prayerswill keep far from the door of his saint the tricks of the devil, andprotect her from the snares which the pious Bishop Gardiner and thecrafty courtier Douglas want to lay for her feet. My queen shall notfall and be ruined. The fool yet lives to protect her. "

CHAPTER XXXI. THE QUEEN

From the niche in which John Heywood had hid himself he could survey theentire corridor and all the doors opening into it--could see everythingand hear everything without being himself seen, for the projectingpilaster completely shaded him. 

So John Heywood stood and listened. All was quiet in the corridor. Inthe distance was now and then heard the deadened sound of the music; andthe confused hum of many voices from the festive halls forced its way tothe 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, andthe sound of rapidly approaching footsteps was heard. 

It was the gold-laced lackeys, who bore the large silver candelabra tolight the queen, who, with her train of ladies, was passing through thecorridor. 

She looked wondrously beautiful. The glare of the candles borne beforeher illumined her countenance, which beamed with cheerfulness. Asshe passed the pillar behind which John Heywood was standing, she wastalking in unrestrained gayety with her second maid of honor; and aclear and lively laugh rang from her lips, which disclosed both rowsof her dazzling white teeth. Her eyes sparkled; her checks were flushedwith a rich red; bright as stars glittered the diamonds in the diademthat encircled her lofty brow; like liquid gold shone her dress of goldbrocade, the long trail of which, trimmed with black ermine, was borneby two lovely pages. 

Arrived at the door of her bed-chamber, the queen dismissed her pagesand lackeys, and permitted only the maid of honor to cross the thresholdof her chamber with her. 

In harmless gossip the pages glided down the corridor and the staircase. Then came the lackeys who bore the candelabra. They also left thecorridor. 

Now all was quiet again. Still John Heywood stood and listened, firmlyresolved to speak to the queen yet that night, even should he be obligedto wake her from sleep. Only he wanted to wait till the maid of honoralso had left the queen's room. 

Now the door opened, and the maid of honor came out. She crossed thecorridor to that side where her own apartments were situated. JohnHeywood 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, " muttered JohnHeywood. 

He was just going to leave his lurking-place, when he perceived a noiseas if a door were slowly and cautiously opened. 

John Heywood cowered again close behind the pillar, and held his breathto listen. 

A bright light fell over the corridor. A dress came rustling nearer andnearer. 

John Heywood gazed astounded and amazed at the figure, which justbrushed past without seeing him. 

That figure was Lady Jane Douglas--Lady Jane, who, on account ofindisposition, had retired from the feast in order to betake herselfto rest. Now, when all rested, she watched--when all laid aside theirfestive garments, she had adorned herself with the same. Like the queen, she wore a dress of gold brocade, trimmed with ermine, and, like her, adiadem of diamonds adorned Lady Jane's brow. 

Now she stood before the queen's door and listened. Then a fierce sneerflitted across her deathly pale face, and her dark eyes flashed stillmore. 

"She sleeps, " muttered she. "Only sleep, queen--sleep till we shall cometo wake you! Sleep, so that I can wake for you. "

She raised her arm threateningly toward the door, and wildly shook herhead. Her long black ringlets encircled and danced around her sullenbrow like the snakes of the furies; and pale and colorless, and withdemon-like beauty, she resembled altogether the goddess of vengeance, inscornful triumph preparing to tread her victim beneath her feet. 

With a low laugh she now glided adown the corridor, but not to thatstaircase yonder, but farther down to the end, where on the wall hunga life-size picture of Henry the Sixth. She pressed on a spring; thepicture flew open, and through the door concealed behind it Lady Janeleft the corridor. 

"She is going to the green-room to a meeting with Henry Howard!"whispered John Heywood, who now stepped forth from behind the pillar. "Oh, now I comprehend it all; now the whole of this devilish plot isclear to me; Lady Jane is Earl Surrey's lady-love, and they want to makethe king believe that it is the queen. Doubtless this Surrey is withthem in the conspiracy, and perhaps he will call Jane Douglas by thename of the queen. They will let the king see her but a moment. Shewears a gold brocade dress and a diamond diadem like the queen; andthereby they hope to deceive Henry. She has the queen's form precisely;and everybody knows the astonishing similarity and likeness of LadyJane's voice to that of the queen. Oh, oh, it is a tolerably cunningplot! But nevertheless you shall not succeed, and you shall not yetgain the victory. Patience, only patience! We likewise will be in thegreen-room, and face to face with this royal counterfeit we will placethe genuine queen!"

With hurried step John Heywood also left the corridor, which was nowlonely and still, for the queen had gone to rest. 

Yes, the queen slept, and yet over yonder in the green-room everythingwas 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, andthe chief master of ceremonies, Earl Douglas, had accompanied him. 

To the king, this excursion, which he had to make on foot, had been verytroublesome; and this inconvenience had made him only still morefurious and excited, and the last trace of compassion for his queen haddisappeared from the king's breast, for on Catharine's account he hadbeen obliged to make this long journey to the green-room; and with agrim joy Henry thought only how terrible was to be his punishment forHenry Howard and also for Catharine. 

Now that Earl Douglas had brought him hither, the king no longer had anydoubts at all of the queen's guilt. It was no longer an accusation--itwas proof. For never in the world would Earl Douglas have dared to bringhim, the king, hither, if he were not certain that he would give himhere infallible proofs. 

The king, therefore, no longer doubted; at last Henry Howard was in hispower, and he could no more escape him. So he was certain of being ableto bring these two hated enemies to the block, and of feeling his sleepno longed disturbed by thoughts of his two powerful rivals. 

The Duke of Norfolk had already passed the gates of the Tower, and hisson must soon follow him thither. 

At this thought the king felt an ecstasy so savage and bloodthirsty, that he wholly forgot that the same sword that was to strike HenryHoward's head was drawn on his queen also. 

They were now standing in the green-room, and the king leaned pantingand moaning on Earl Douglas's arm. 

The large wide room, with its antique furniture and its faded glory, wasonly gloomily and scantily lighted in the middle by the two wax candlesof the candelabrum that Earl Douglas had brought with him; while furtheraway it was enveloped in deep gloom, and seemed to the eye through thisgloom to stretch out to an interminable length. 

"Through the door over there comes the queen, " said Douglas; and hehimself shrank at the loud sound of his voice, which in the large, desolate room became of awful fulness. "And that, there, is HenryHoward's entrance. Oh, he knows that path very thoroughly; for he hasoften enough already travelled it in the dark night, and his foot nolonger stumbles on any stone of offence!"

"But he will perchance stumble on the headsman's block!" muttered theking, with a cruel laugh. 

"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 thisquestion. "Is your majesty satisfied to see the earl and the queenmake their appearance at this meeting? Or, do you desire to listen to alittle of the earl's tender protestations?"

"I will hear not a little, but all!" said the king. "Ah, let us allowthe earl yet to sing his swan-like song before he plunges into the seaof blood!"

"Then, " said Earl Douglas, "then we must put out this light, and yourmajesty must be content merely to hear the guilty ones, and not to seethem also. We will then betake ourselves to the boudoir here, which Ihave opened for this purpose, and in which is an easy-chair for yourmajesty. We will place this chair near the open door, and then yourmajesty will be able to hear every word of their tender whisperings. "

"But how shall we, if we extinguish this our only light, at last attainto a sight of this dear loving pair, and be able to afford them thedramatic surprise of our presence?"

"Sire, as soon as the Earl of Surrey enters, twenty men of the king'sbodyguard 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 theirtorches. I have taken care also that before the private backgate of thepalace two coaches stand ready, the drivers of which know very well thestreet that leads to the Tower!"

"Two coaches?" said the king, laughing. "Ah, ah, Douglas, how cruel weare to separate the tender, loving pair on this journey which is yet tobe their last! Well, perhaps we can compensate them for it, andallow these turtledoves to make the last trip--the trip to thestake--together. No, no, we will not separate them in death. Togetherthey may lay their heads on the block. "

The king laughed, quite delighted with his jest, while, leaning on theearl's arm, he crossed to the little boudoir on the other side, and tookhis place in the armchair set near the door. 

"Now we must extinguish the light; and may it please your majesty toawait in silence the things that are to come. "

The earl extinguished the light, and deep darkness and a grave-likestillness now followed. 

But this did not last long. Now was heard quite distinctly the sound offootsteps. They came nearer and nearer--now a door was heard to open andshut again, and it was as though some one were creeping softly along onhis toes in the hall. 

"Henry Howard!" whispered Douglas. 

The king could scarcely restrain the cry of savage, malicious delightthat forced its way to his lips. 

The hated enemy was then in his power; he was convicted of the crime; hewas inevitably lost. 

"Geraldine!" whispered a voice, "Geraldine!"

And as if his low call had already been sufficient to draw hither theloved one, the secret door here quite close to the boudoir opened. The rustling of a dress was very distinctly heard, and the sound offootsteps. 

"Geraldine!" repeated Earl Surrey. 

"Here I am, my Henry!"

With an exclamation of delight, the woman rushed forward toward thesound of the loved voice. 

"The queen!" muttered Henry; and in spite of himself he felt his heartseized with bitter grief. 

He saw with his inward eye how they held each other in their embrace. Heheard their kisses and the low whisper of their tender vows, and allthe agonies of jealousy and wrath filled his soul. But yet the kingprevailed upon himself to be silent and swallow down his rage. He wantedto hear everything, to know everything. 

He clenched his hands convulsively, and pressed his lips firmly togetherto hold in his panting breath. He wanted to hear. 

How happy they both were! Henry had wholly forgotten that he had cometo reproach her for her long silence; she did not think about this beingthe last time she might see her lover. 

They were with each other, and this hour was theirs. What did the wholeworld matter to them? What cared they whether or not mischief and ruinthreatened them hereafter?

They sat by each other on the divan, quite near the boudoir. They jestedand laughed; and Henry Howard kissed away the tears that the happinessof the present caused his Geraldine to shed. 

He swore to her eternal and unchanging love. In blissful silence shedrank in the music of his words; and then she reiterated, with jubilantjoy, his vows of love. 

The king could scarcely restrain his fury. 

The heart of Earl Douglas leaped with satisfaction and gratification. "A lucky thing that Jane has no suspicion of our presence, " thoughthe--"otherwise she would have been less unrestrained and ardent, and theking's ear would have imbibed less poison. "

Lady Jane thought not at all of her father; she scarcely remembered thatthis very night would destroy her hated rival the queen. 

Henry Howard had called her his Geraldine only. Jane had entirely forgotthat 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 hadbeen 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 theresolution of going to the king and accusing myself of this love thatwas consuming my heart. Oh, fear naught! I would not have accused you. I would have even denied that love which you have so often and with suchtransporting reality sworn to me. I would have done it in order to seewhether my Geraldine could at last gain courage and strength to lover. He saw how he pressed her hands to his lips; how he put his hand to herhead to raise it from the floor. "

The king was speechless with rage. He could only lift his arm to beckonthe soldiers to approach; to point to Henry Howard, who had not yetsucceeded 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 conduct him to the Tower!"

"Yes, arrest him!" said the king; and, as with youthful speed he walkedup to Henry Howard and put his hand heavily on his shoulder, hewith terrible calmness continued: "Henry Howard, your wish shall befulfilled; you shall mount the scaffold for which you have so muchlonged!"

The earl's noble countenance remained calm and unmoved; his brightbeaming eye fearlessly encountered the eye of the king flashing withwrath. 

"Sire, " said he, "my life is in your hand, and I very well know that youwill not spare it. I do not even ask you to do so. But spare this nobleand beautiful woman, whose only crime is that she has followed the voiceof her heart. Sire, I alone am the guilty one. Punish me, then--tortureme, if you like--but be merciful to her. "

The king broke out into a loud laugh. "Ah, he begs for her!" saidhe. "This little Earl Surrey presumes to think that his sentimentallove-plaint can exercise an influence on the heart of his judge! No, no, Henry Howard; you know me better. You say, indeed, that I am a cruelman, and that blood cleaves to my crown. Well, now, it is our pleasureto set in our crown a new blood-red ruby; and if we want to take it fromGeraldine's heart's blood, your sonnets will not hinder us from doingso, my good little earl. That is all the reply 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 Earl Surrey, solemnly. "There. But still this hour was hers, andshe would enjoy it. She clung fast to his breast; she drew him withirresistible 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 isyet ours. Let us avail ourselves of it; for who knows whether the nextwill still belong to us?"

"No! it is no longer yours, " yelled the king, as he sprang like a rousedlion from his seat. "Your hours are numbered, and the next alreadybelongs to the hangman!"

A piercing shriek burst from Geraldine's lips. Then was heard a dullfall. 

"She has fainted, " muttered Earl Douglas. 

"Geraldine, Geraldine, my loved one!" cried Henry Howard. "My God, myGod! 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 withtorches in their hands. 

"Light the candles, and guard the door!" said the king, whose dazzledeyes were not yet able to bear this bright glare of light which nowsuddenly streamed through the room. 

The soldiers obeyed his orders. A pause ensued. The king had put hishand before his eyes, and was struggling for breath and self-control. 

When at length he let his hand glide down, his features had assumed aperfectly calm, almost a serene expression. 

With a hasty glance he surveyed the room. He saw the queen in her dressglistening with gold; he saw how she lay on the floor, stretched at fulllength, her face turned to the ground, motionless and rigid. 

He saw Henry Howard, who knelt by his beloved and was busy about herwith all the anxiety and agony of an acknowledge of her love openly andfrankly; whether her heart had the power to burst that iron band whichthe deceitful rules of the world had placed around it; whether shewould acknowledge her lover when he was willing to die for her. "Yes, Geraldine, I wanted to do it, that I might finally know which feelingis stronger in you--love or pride--and whether you could then stillpreserve the mask of indifference, when death was hovering over yourlover's head. Oh, Geraldine, I should deem it a fairer fate to dieunited with you, than to be obliged to still longer endure this life ofconstraint and hateful etiquette. "

"No, no, " said she, trembling, "we will not die. My God, life is indeedso beautiful when you are by my side! And who knows whether a felicitousand 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 morerenunciation for us. There above, you are mine, and the bloody image ofyour husband no longer 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 knowsus--where we can cast from us all this hated splendor, to live for eachother and for love. "

She threw her arms about her lover, and in the ecstasy of her love shehad wholly forgotten that she could never indeed 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 sheforgot everything--even the queen and the vengeance she had vowed. 

She now remembered her father's words, and she trembled for her lover'slife. 

If now her father had not told her the truth--if now he hadnotwithstanding sacrificed Henry Howard in order to ruin the queen--ifshe was not able to save him, and through her fault he were to perish onthe scaffold--above Henry the Eighth will no more be the judge, butthe condemned criminal; "and your bloody and accursed deeds will witnessagainst you!"

The king laughed. "You avail yourself of your advantage, " 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 sins a little more, and you revile your legitimate, God-appointed king! But you should bearin mind, earl, that before the scaffold there is yet the rack, and thatit is very possible indeed that a painful question might there be putto the noble Earl Surrey, to which his agonies might prevent him fromreturning an answer. Now, away with you! We have nothing more to say toeach other on earth!"

He motioned to the soldiers, who approached the Earl of Surrey. As theyreached their hands toward him, he turned on them a look so proud andcommanding that they involuntarily recoiled a step. 

"Follow me!" said Henry Howard, calmly; and, without even deigning theking a single look more, with head proudly erect, he walked to the door. 

Geraldine still lay on the ground--her face turned to the floor. Shestirred not. She seemed to have fallen into a deep swoon. 

Only as the door with a sullen sound closed behind Earl Surrey, a lowwail and moan was perceived--such as is wont to struggle forth at thelast hour from the breast of the dying. 

The king did not heed it. He still gazed, with eyes stern and flashingwith 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 thesoldiers, not as a prisoner, but as a commander. Oh, these Howards aredestined to torment me; and even their death will scarcely be a fullsatisfaction to me. "

"Sire, " said Earl Douglas, who had observed the king with a keen, penetrating eye, and knew that he had now reached the height ofhis wrath, at which he shrank from no deed of violence and nocruelty--"sire, you have sent Earl Surrey to the Tower. But what shallbe done with the queen, who lies there on the floor in a swoon?"

The king roused himself from his reverie; and his bloodshot eyes werefixed on Geraldine's motionless form with so dark an expression of hateand rage, that Earl Douglas exultingly said to himself: "The queen islost! He will be inexorable!"

"Ah, the queen!" cried Henry, with a savage laugh. "Yea, verily, Iforgot the queen. I did not think of this charming Geraldine! But youare right, Douglas; we must think of her and occupy ourselves a littlewith her! Did you not say that a second coach was ready? Well, then, wewill not hinder Geraldine from accompanying her beloved. She shall bewhere he is--in the Tower, and on the scaffold! We will thereforewake this sentimental lady and show her the last duty of a cavalier byconducting 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 lovesyou and trembles for your welfare--it is my duty to implore you to spareyourself and preserve your precious and adored person from the venomoussting of anger and grief. I conjure you, therefore, do not deign tolook again on this woman, who has so deeply injured you. Give me yourorders--what am I to do with her--and allow me first of all to accompanyyou to your apartments. "

"You are right, " said the king, "she is not worthy of having my eyesrest on her again; and she is even too contemptible for my anger!We will call the soldiers that they may conduct this traitoress andadulteress to the tower, as they have done her paramour. "

"Yet for that there is needed still a formality. The queen will not beadmitted into the Tower without the king's written and sealed order. "

"Then I will draw up that order. "

"Sire, in that cabinet yonder may be found the necessarywriting-materials, if it please your majesty. "

The king leaned in silence on the earl's arm, and allowed himself to beled again into the cabinet. 

With officious haste Earl Douglas made the necessary arrangements. Herolled the writing-table up to the king; he placed the large sheet ofwhite paper in order, and slipped the pen into the king's hand. 

"What shall I write?" asked the king, who, by the exertion of hisnight's excursion, and of his anger and vexation, began at length to beexhausted. 

"An order for the queen's imprisonment, sire. "

The king wrote. Earl Douglas stood behind him, with eager attention, inbreathless expectation, his look steadily fixed on the paper over whichthe king's hand, white, fleshy, and sparkling with diamonds, glidedalong in hasty characters. 

He had at length reached his goal. When at last he should hold in hishand the paper which the king was then writing--when he had inducedHenry to return to his apartments before the imprisonment of the queenhad taken place--then was he victorious. Not that woman there would hethen imprison; but, with the warrant in his hand, he would go to thereal queen, and take her to the Tower. 

Once in the Tower, the queen could no longer defend herself; for theking would see her no more; and if before the Parliament she protestedher innocence in ever so sacred oaths, still the king's testimony mustconvict her; for he had himself surprised her with her paramour. 

No, there was no escape for the queen. She had once succeeded inclearing herself of an accusation, and proving her innocence, by arebutting alibi. But this time she was irretrievably lost, and no alibicould deliver her. 

The king completed his work and arose, whilst Douglas, at his command, was employed in setting the king's seal to the fatal paper. 

From the hall was heard a slight noise, as though some person werecautiously moving about there. 

Earl Douglas did not notice it; he was just in the act of pressing thesignet hard on the melted sealing-wax. 

The king heard it, and supposed that it was Geraldine, and that she wasjust waking from her swoon and rising. 

He stepped to the door of the hall, and looked toward the place whereshe was lying. But no--she had not yet risen; she still lay stretched atfull length on the floor. 

"She has come to; but she still pretends to be in a swoon, " thought theking; and he turned to Douglas. 

"We are done, " said he; "the warrant for imprisonment is prepared, andthe sentence of the adulterous queen is spoken. We have done with herforever; and never shall she again behold our face, or again hear ourvoice. She is sentenced and damned, and the royal mercy has nothingmore to do with this sinner. A curse on the adulteress! A curse onthe shameless woman who deceived her husband, and gave herself up to atraitorous paramour! Woe to her, and may shame and disgrace forever markher name, which--"

Suddenly the king stopped and listened. The noise that he had heardjust, before was now repeated louder and quicker; it came nearer andnearer. 

And now the door opened and a figure entered--a figure which made theking stare with astonishment and admiration. It came nearer and nearer, light, graceful, and with the freshness of youth; a gold-brocade dressenveloped it; a diadem of diamonds sparkled on the brow; and brighteryet than the diamonds beamed the eyes. 

No, the king was not mistaken. It was the queen, She was standingbefore him--and yet she still lay motionless and stiff upon the flooryonder. 

The king uttered a cry, and, turning pale, reeled a step backward. 

"The queen!" exclaimed Douglas, in terror; and he trembled so violentlythat the paper in his hand rattled and fluttered. 

"Yes, the queen!" said Catharine, with a haughty smile. "The queen, whocomes to scold her husband, that, contrary to his physician's orders, hestill refrains from his slumbers at so late an hour of the night. "

"And the fool!" said John Heywood, as with humorous pathos he steppedforward from behind the queen--"the fool, who comes to ask Earl Douglashow he dared deprive John Heywood of his office, and usurp the placeof king's fool to Henry, and deceive his most gracious majesty with allmanner of silly pranks and carnival tricks. "

"And who"--asked the king, in a voice quivering with rage, fastening hisflashing looks on Douglas with an annihilating expression--"who, then, is that woman there? Who has dared with such cursed mummery to deceivethe king, and calumniate the queen?"

"Sire, " said Earl Douglas, who very well knew that his future andthat of his daughter depended on the present moment, and whom thisconsciousness had speedily restored to his self-possession andcalmness--"sire, I beseech your majesty for a moment of privateexplanation; and I shall be entirely successful in vindicating myself. "

"Do not grant it him, brother Henry, " said John Heywood; "he is adangerous juggler; and who knows whether he may not yet, in his privateconversation, convince you that he is king, and you nothing more thanhis lickspittle, fawning, hypocritical servant Earl Archibald Douglas. "

"My lord and husband, I beg you to hear the earl's justification, " saidCatharine, 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 shallbe done in your presence, Kate, and you yourself shall decide whether ornot his justification is sufficient. "

"No indeed, my husband; let me remain an entire stranger to this night'sconspiracy, so that spite and anger may not fill my heart and rob me ofthe supreme confidence which I need, to be able to walk on at your sidehappy and smiling in the midst of my enemies. "

"You are right, Kate, " said the king, thoughtfully. "You have manyenemies at our court; and we have to accuse ourselves that we have notalways succeeded in stopping our ear to their malicious whisperings, andin keeping ourselves pure from the poisonous breath of their calumny. Our heart is still too artless, and we cannot even yet comprehend thatmen are a disgusting, corrupt race, which one should tread beneath hisfeet, 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. EarlDouglas followed him thither, and let the heavy velvet curtain dropbehind them. 

"Sire, " said he, hardily and resolutely, "the question now is this:Whose head would you rather give over to the executioner, mine or theEarl of Surrey's? You have the choice between the two. You are awarethat I have ventured for a moment to deceive you. Well, send me to theTower then, and set free the noble Henry Howard, that he may henceforthdisturb your sleep and poison your days; that he may further court thelove of the people, and perhaps some day rob your son of the throne thatbelongs to him. Here is my head, sire; it is forfeited to the headsman'saxe, and Earl Surrey is free!"

"No, he is not free, and never shall be!" said the king, grinding histeeth. 

"Then, my king, I am justified; and instead of being angry with me, youwill thank me? It is true I have played a hazardous game, but I did soin the service of my king. I did it because I loved him, and because Iread on your lofty clouded brow the thoughts that begirt with darknessmy master's soul, and disturbed the sleep of his nights. You wanted tohave Henry Howard in your power; and this crafty and hypocritical earlknew how to conceal his guilt so securely under the mask of virtue andloftiness of soul! But I knew him, and behind this mask I had seen hisface distorted with passion and crime. I wanted to unmask him; but forthis, it was necessary that I should deceive first him, and then for thehour even yourself. I knew that he burned with an adulterous love forthe queen, and I wanted to avail myself of the madness of this passion, in order to bring him surely and unavoidably to a richly-deservedpunishment. But I would not draw the pure and exalted person of thequeen into this net with which we wanted to surround Earl Surrey. I wasobliged, then, to seek a substitute for her; and I did so. There wasat your court a woman whose whole heart belongs, after God, to the kingalone; and who so much adores him, that she would be ready at any hourgladly 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 yoursmile, and worships you as her redeemer and savior--a woman whom youmight, as you pleased, make a saint or a strumpet; and who, to pleaseyou, would be a shameless Phyrne or a chaste veiled nun. "

"Tell me her name, Douglas, " said the king, "tell me it! It is a rareand precious stroke of fortune to be so loved; and it would be a sin notto want to enjoy this good fortune. "

"Sire, I will tell you her name when you have first forgiven me, " saidDouglas, whose heart leaped for joy, and who well understood that theking's anger was already mollified and the danger now almost overcome. "I said to this woman: 'You are to do the king a great service; you areto deliver him from a powerful and dangerous foe! You are to save himfrom Henry Howard!' 'Tell me what I must do!' cried she, her looksbeaming with joy. 'Henry Howard loves the queen. You must be the queento him. You must receive his letters, and answer them in the queen'sname. You must grant him interviews by night, and, favored by thedarkness of the night, make him believe that it is the queen whom heholds 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 kingas a traitor and criminal whose head is forfeited to the headsman's axe. One day we will let the king be a witness of a meeting that Henry Howardbelieves he has with the queen; it will then be in his power to punishhis enemy for his criminal passion, which is worthy of death!' And asI thus spoke to the woman, sire, she said with a sad smile: 'It is adisgraceful and dishonorable part that you assign me; but I undertakeit, for you say I may thereby render a service to the king. I shalldisgrace myself for him; but he will perhaps bestow upon me in return agracious smile; and then I shall be abundantly rewarded. '"

"But this woman is an angel!" cried the king, ardently--"an angel whomwe should kneel to and adore. Tell me her name, Douglas!"

"Sire, as soon as you have forgiven me! You know now all my guilt andall my crime. For, as I bade that noble woman, so it came to pass, andHenry Howard has gone to the Tower in the firm belief that it was thequeen whom he just now held in his arms. "

"But why did you leave me in this belief, Douglas? Why did you fill myheart with wrath against the noble and virtuous queen also?"

"Sire, I dared not reveal the deception to you before you had sentencedSurrey, for your noble and just moral sense would have been reluctant topunish him on account of a crime that he had not committed; and inyour first wrath you would also have blamed this noble woman who hassacrificed 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 destroyed her. "

"Therefore, my king, I quietly allowed you to make out an order forthe queen's incarceration. But you remember well, sire, I begged youto return to your apartments before the queen was arrested. Well, now, there I should have disclosed to you the whole secret, which I could nottell you in the presence of that woman. For she would die of shameif she suspected that you knew of her love for the king, so pure andself-sacrificing, and cherished in such heroic silence. "

"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 thatI dared to deceive you?"

"I am no longer angry with you, Douglas; for you have acted rightly. Theplan, which you have contrived and carried 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, whoendured his kisses, his embraces, his vows of love, in order to render aservice to her king--that woman was my daughter, Lady Jane Douglas!"

"Lady Jane!" cried the king. "No, no, this is a new deception. Thathaughty, chaste, and unapproachable Lady Jane--that wonderfullybeautiful marble statue really has then a heart in her breast, and thatheart belongs to me? Lady Jane, the pure and chaste virgin, has madefor me this prodigious sacrifice, of receiving this hated Surrey as herlover, 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 thatfainting woman, who was to Henry Howard the queen. "

The king did not reply to him; but he drew back the curtain andreentered the cabinet, in which the queen was waiting with John Heywood. 

Henry did not notice them. With youthful precipitation he crossed thecabinet and the hall. Now he stood by the figure of Geraldine stilllying on the floor. 

She was no longer in a swoon. She had long since regained herconsciousness; and terrible were the agonies and tortures that rent herheart. Henry Howard had incurred the penalty of the headsman's axe, andit was she that had betrayed him. 

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 ofherself--only of him--of Henry Howard, whom she must deliver, whom shemust save from an ignominious death. 

For him she sent up her fervent prayers to God; for him her hearttrembled with anxiety and agony, as the king now advanced to her, and, bending down, gazed into her eyes with a strange expression, at oncescrutinizing and smiling. 

"Lady Jane, " said he then, as he presented her his hand, "arise from theground and allow your king to express to you his thanks for your sublimeand wonderful sacrifice! Verily, it is a fair lot to be a king; for thenone has at least the power of punishing traitors, and of rewarding thosethat serve us. I have to-day done the one, and I will not neglect to dothe other also. Stand up, then, Lady Jane; it does not become you to lieon your knees before me. "

"Oh, let me kneel, my king, " said she, passionately; "let me beseechyou for mercy, for pity! Have compassion, King Henry--compassion on theanxiety and agony which I endure. It is not possible that this is all areality! that this juggling is to be changed into such terrible earnest!Tell me, King Henry--I conjure you by the agonies which I suffer foryour sake--tell me, what will you do with Henry Howard? Why have yousent him to the Tower?"

"To punish the traitor as he deserves, " said the king, as he cast a darkand angry look across at Douglas, who had also approached his daughter, and was now standing close by her. 

Lady Jane uttered a heartrending cry, and sank down again, senseless andcompletely exhausted. 

The king frowned. "It is possible, " said he--"and I almost believeit--that I have been deceived in many ways this evening, and that nowagain my guilelessness has been played upon in order to impose upon mea charming story. However, I have given my word to pardon; and it shallnot be said that Henry the Eighth, who calls himself God's vicegerent, has ever broken his word; nor even that he has punished those whom hehas assured of exemption from punishment. My Lord Douglas, I will fulfilmy promise. I forgive you. "

He extended his hand to Douglas, who kissed it fervently. The king bentdown closer to him. "Douglas, " whispered he, "you are as cunning as aserpent; and I now see through your artfully-woven web! You wantedto 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 havedone to the queen. But take heed to yourself, take heed that I do notmeet you again on the same track; do not ever try again, by a look, aword, ay, even by a smile, to cast suspicion on the queen. The slightestattempt would cost you your life! That I swear to you by the holy motherof God; and you know that I have never yet broken that oath. As regardsLady Jane, we do not want to consider that she has misused the name ofour illustrious and virtuous consort in order to draw this lustful andadulterous earl into the net which you had set for him; she obeyed yourorders, Douglas; and we will not now decide what other motives besideshave urged her to this deed. She may settle that with God and her ownconscience, and it does not behoove us to decide about it. "

"But it behooves me, perhaps, my husband, to ask by what right Lady Janehas dared to appear here in this attire, and to present to a certaindegree a counterfeit of her queen?" asked Catharine in a sharp tone. "Imay well be allowed to ask what has made my maid of honor, who left thefestive hall sick, now all at once so well that she goes roaming aboutthe castle in the night time, and in a dress which seems likely to bemistaken for mine? Sire, was this dress perchance a craftily-devisedstratagem, in order to really confound us with one another? You aresilent, my lord and king. It is true, then, they have wanted to carryout a terrible plot against me; and, without the assistance of myfaithful and honest friend, John Heywood, who brought me here, I shouldwithout doubt be now condemned and lost, as the Earl of Surrey is. "

"Ah, John, it was you then that brought a little light into thisdarkness?" cried the king, with a cheerful laugh, as he laid his hand onHeywood's shoulder. "Now, verily, what the wise and prudent did not see, that the fool has seen through!"

"King Henry of England, " said John Heywood, solemnly, "many callthemselves wise, and yet they are fools; and many assume the mask offolly, because fools are allowed to be wise. "

"Kate, " said the king, "you are right; this was a bad night for you, butGod and the fool have saved you and me. We will both be thankful forit. But it is well if you do as you before wished, and ask and inquirenothing more concerning the mysteries of this night. It was brave in youto come here, and I will be mindful of it. Come, my little queen, giveme your arm and conduct me to my apartments. I tell you, child, it givesme joy to be able to lean on your arm, and see your dear sprightly faceblanched by no fear or terrors of conscience. Come, Kate, you aloneshall lead me, and to you alone will I trust myself. "

"Sire, you are too heavy for the queen, " said the fool, as he put hisneck under the other arm. "Let me share with her the burden of royalty. "

"But before we go, " said Catharine, "I have, my husband, one request. Will you grant it?"

"I will grant you everything that you may ask, provided you will notrequire me to send you to the Tower. "

"Sire, I wish to dismiss my maid of honor, Lady Jane Douglas, frommy service--that is all, " said the queen, as her eyes glanced with anexpression of contempt, and yet at the same time of pain, at the form ofher friend of other days, prostrate on the floor. 

"She is dismissed!" said the king. "You will choose another maid ofhonor to-morrow. Come, Kate!"

And the king, supported by his consort and John Heywood, left the roomwith slow and heavy steps. 

Earl Douglas watched them with a sullen, hateful expression. As the doorclosed after them he raised his arm threateningly toward heaven, and histrembling lips uttered a fierce curse and execration. 

"Vanquished! vanquished again!" muttered he, gnashing 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, andour envenomed weapon shall nevertheless strike her at last!"

Suddenly he felt a hand laid heavily on his shoulder, and a pair ofglaring, flaming eyes gazed at him. 

"Father, " said Lady Jane, as she threw her right hand threateninglytoward heaven--"father, as true as there is a God above us, I willaccuse you yourself to the king as a traitor--I will betray to him allyour 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. "Iwill 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 devilwith my heart's blood!" said Jane Douglas, with a horrible smile. "Save his life, or, if you have not the power to do that, then at leastprocure me the happiness of being able to die with him. "

CHAPTER XXXII. UNDECEIVED. 

Parliament, which had not for a long time now ventured to offer anyfurther opposition to the king's will--Parliament had acquiesced in hisdecree. It had accused Earl Surrey of high treason; and, on the soletestimony of his mother and his sister, he had been declared guilty oflese majeste and high treason. A few words of discontent at his removalfrom office, some complaining remarks about the numerous executions thatdrenched England's soil with blood--that was all that the Duchess ofRichmond 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 ofhigh treason of which his mother the Duchess of Norfolk could chargehim. [Footnote: Tytler, p. 402. Burnet, vol. I, p. 95. ]

These accusations were of so trivial a character, that the Parliamentwell knew they were not the ground of his arrest, but only a pretext forit--only a pretext, by which the king said to his pliant and tremblingParliament: "This man is innocent; but I will that you condemn him, andtherefore you will account the accusation sufficient. "

Parliament had not the courage to oppose the king's will. These membersof Parliament were nothing more than a flock of sheep, who, in tremblingdread of the sharp teeth of the dog, go straight along the path whichthe dog shows them. 

The king wanted them to condemn the Earl of Surrey, and they condemnedhim. 

They summoned him before their judgment-seat, and it was in vain thathe 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 headsso unreservedly beneath the king's sceptre, which dripped with bloodlike a headsman's axe. There were still a few to whom the accusationappeared insufficient; but they were outvoted; and in order to giveParliament a warning example, the king, on the very same day, had theseobstinate ones arrested and accused of some pretended crime. For thispeople, enslaved by the king's cruelty and savage barbarity, werealready so degenerate and debased in self-consciousness, that men werealways and without trouble found, who, in order to please the king andhis bloodthirstiness and sanctimonious hypocrisy, degraded themselvesto informers, and accused of crime those whom the king's dark frown hadindicated to them as offenders. 

So Parliament had doomed the Earl of Surrey to die, and the king hadsigned his death-warrant. 

Early next morning he was to be executed; and in the Tower-yard theworkmen were already busy in erecting the scaffold on which the nobleearl was to be beheaded. 

Henry Howard was alone in his cell. He had done with life and earthlythings. He had set his house in order and made his will; he had writtento his mother and sister, and forgiven them for their treachery andaccusation; he had addressed a letter to his father, in which heexhorted him, in words as noble as they were touching, to steadfastnessand calmness, and bade him not to weep for him, for death was hisdesire, and the grave the only refuge for which he longed. 

He had then, as we have said, done with life; and earthly things nolonger disturbed him. He felt no regret and no fear. Life had left himnothing more to wish; and he almost thanked the king that he would sosoon deliver him from the burden of existence. 

The future had nothing more to offer him; why then should he desireit? 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 herfate; and no tidings of her had penetrated to him through the solitaryprison walls. Did the queen still live? Or had the king in his wrathmurdered her on that very night when Henry was carried to the Tower, andhis last look beheld his beloved lying at her husband's feet, swooningand rigid. 

What had become of the queen--of Henry Howard's beloved Geraldine? Heknew nothing of her. He had hoped in vain for some note, some messagefrom her; but he had not dared to ask any one as to her fate. Perhapsthe king desisted from punishing her likewise. Perhaps his murderousinclination had been satisfied by putting Henry Howard to death; andCatharine escaped the scaffold. It might, therefore, have been ruinousto her, had he, the condemned, inquired after her. Or, if she had gonebefore him, then he was certain of finding her again, and of beingunited with her forevermore beyond the grave. 

He believed in a hereafter, for he loved; and death did not affrighthim, for after death came the reunion with her, with Geraldine, whoeither was already waiting for him there above, or would soon followhim. 

Life had nothing more to offer him. Death united him to his beloved. Hehailed death as his friend and savior, as the priest who was to unitehim to his Geraldine. He heard the great Tower clock of the prison whichwith threatening stroke made known the hour; and each passing hour hehailed with a joyous throb of the heart. The evening came and deep nightdescended upon him--the last night that was allotted to him-the lastnight that separated him from his Geraldine. 

The turnkey opened the door to bring the earl a light, and to askwhether he had any orders to give. Heretofore it had been the king'sspecial command not to allow him a light in his cell; and he had spentthese six long evenings and nights of his imprisonment in darkness. Butto-day they were willing to give him a light; to-day they were willingto allow him everything that he might still desire. The life which hemust leave in a few hours was to be once more adorned for him with allcharms and enjoyments which he might ask for. Henry Howard had but towish, and the jailer was ready to furnish him everything. 

But Henry Howard wished for nothing; he demanded nothing, save that theywould leave him alone-save that they would remove from his prison thislight which dazzled him, and which opposed to his enrapturing dreams thedisenchanting reality. 

The king, who had wanted to impose a special punishment in condemninghim to darkness--the king had, contrary to his intention, become therebyhis benefactor. For with darkness came dreams and fantasies. With thedarkness came Geraldine. 

When night and silence were all around him, then there was light within;and an enchanting whisper and a sweet, enticing voice resounded withinhim. The gates of his prison sprang open, and on the wings of thoughtHenry Howard soared away from that dismal and desolate place. On thewings of thought he came to her--to his Geraldine. 

Again she was by him, in the large, silent hall. Again night lay uponthem, like a veil concealing, blessing, and enveloping them;--and threwits protection over their embraces and their kisses. Solitude allowedhim to hear again the dear music of her voice, which sang for him soenchanting a melody of love and ecstasy. 

Henry Howard must be alone, so that he can hear his Geraldine. Deepdarkness must surround him, so that his Geraldine can come to him. 

He demanded, therefore, for his last night, nothing further than to beleft alone, and without a light. The jailer extinguished the light andleft the cell. But he did not shove the great iron bolt across thedoor. He did not put the large padlock on it, but he only left the doorslightly ajar, and did not lock it at all. 

Henry Howard took no notice of this. What cared he, whether this gatewas locked or no-he who no longer had a desire for life and freedom!

He leaned back on his seat, and dreamed with eyes open. There below inthe yard they were working on the scaffold which Henry Howard was toascend as soon as day dawned. The dull monotony of the strokes of thehammers fell on his ear. Now and then the torches, which lighted theworkmen at their melancholy task, allowed to shine up into his cell apale glimmer of light, which danced on the walls in ghost-like shapes. 

"There are the ghosts of all those that Henry has put to death, " thoughtHenry Howard; "they gather around me; like will-o'-the-wisps, theydance with me the dance of death, and in a few hours I shall be forevertheirs. "

The dull noise of hammers and saws continued steadily on, and HenryHoward sank deeper and deeper in reverie. 

He thought, he felt, and desired nothing but Geraldine. His whole soulwas concentrated in that single thought of her. It seemed to him hecould bid his spirit see her, as though he could command his sensesto perceive her. Yes, she was there; he felt-he was conscious of herpresence. Again he lay at her feet, and leaned his head on her knee, andlistened again to those charming revelations of her love. 

Completely borne away from the present, and from existence, he saw, hefelt, only her. The mystery of love was perfected, and, under the veilof night, Geraldine had again winged her way to him, and he to her. 

A happy smile played about his lips, which faltered forth rapturouswords of greeting. Overcome by a wonderful hallucination, he saw hisbeloved approaching him; he stretched out his arms to clasp her; and itdid not arouse him when he felt instead of her only the empty air. 

"Why do you float away from me again, Geraldine?" asked he, in alow tone. "Wherefore do you withdraw from my arms, to whirl with thewill-o'-the-wisps in the death-dance? Come, Geraldine, come; my soulburns for you. My heart calls you with its last faltering throb. Come, Geraldine, oh, come!"

What was that? It was as though the door were gently opened, and thelatch again gently fastened. It was as though a foot were moving softlyover the floor-as though the shape of a human form shaded for a momentthe flickering light which danced around the walls. 

Henry Howard saw it not. 

He saw naught but his Geraldine, whom he with so much fervency andlonging wished by his side. He spread his arms; he called her with allthe ardor, all the enthusiasm of a lover. 

Now he uttered a cry of ecstasy. His prayer of love was answered. Thedream 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 wasto die. 

He pressed his lips to her mouth and she returned his kisses. He threwhis 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 andseizing 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 pityon me! Tell me that this is no dream, that I am not mad--that you arereally--you are Geraldine--you--the king's consort, whose knees I nowclasp! Speak, oh speak, my Geraldine!"

"I am she!" softly whispered she. "I am Geraldine--am the woman whom youlove, and to whom you have sworn eternal truth and eternal love! HenryHoward, my beloved, I now remind you of your oath! Your life belongs tome. This you have vowed, and I now come to demand of you that which ismy own!"

"Ay, my life belongs to you, Geraldine! But it is a miserable, melancholy possession, which you will call yours only a few hourslonger. "

She threw her arms closely around his neck; she raised him to her heart;she kissed his mouth, his eyes. He felt her tears, which trickled likehot fountains over his face; he heard her sighs, which struggled fromher breast like death-groans. 

"You must not die!" murmured she, amid her tears. "No, Henry, you mustlive, so that I too can live; so that I shall not become mad from agonyand 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 intoxicated withhappiness, he scarcely heard what she was speaking. 

She was again there! What cared he for all the rest?

"Geraldine, " softly whispered he, "do you recollect still how we firstmet each other? how our hearts were united in one throb, how our lipsclung to each other in one kiss? Geraldine, my life, my loved one, wethen swore that naught could separate us, that our love should survivethe 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! Ay, we will live, live!And your life shall be my life, and where you are, there will I be also!Henry, do you remember that you vowed this to me with a solemn oath!"

"I remember it, but I cannot keep my word, my Geraldine! Hear you howthey are sawing and hammering there below? Know you what that indicates, dearest?"

"I know it, Henry! It is the scaffold that they are building therebelow. The scaffold for you and me. For I too will die if you will notlive; and the axe that seeks your neck shall find mine also, if you wishnot that we both live!"

"Do I wish it! But how can we, beloved?"

"We can, Henry, we can! All is ready for the flight! It is all arranged, everything prepared! The king's signet-ring has opened to me the gatesof the prison; the omnipotence of gold has won over your jailer. Hewill not see it, when two persons instead of one leave this dungeon. Unmolested and without hinderance, we will both leave the Tower by waysknown only to him, over secret corridors and staircases, and will goaboard a boat which is ready to take us to a ship, which lies in theharbor prepared to sail, and which as soon as we are aboard weighsanchor and puts to sea with us. 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. Hepressed her fast to his heart and whispered: "Yes, come, come, mybeloved! Let us fly! To you belongs my life, you alone!"

He raised her up in his arms, and hastened with her to the door. Hepushed it hastily open with his foot and hurried forward down thecorridor; but having arrived just at the first turn he reeled back inhorror. 

Before the door wore standing soldiers with shouldered arms. Therestood also the lieutenant of the Tower, and two servants behind himwith lighted candles. Geraldine gave a scream, and with anxious hasterearranged the thick veil that had slipped from her head. 

Henry Howard also had uttered a cry, but not on account of the soldiersand the frustrated flight. 

His eyes, stretched wide open, stared at this figure at his side, now soclosely veiled. 

It seemed to him as though like a spectre a strange face had risen upclose by him--as though it were not the beloved head of the queen thatrested there on his shoulder. He had seen this face only as a vision, asthe fantasy of a dream; but he knew with perfect certainty that it wasnot her countenance, not the countenance of his Geraldine. 

The lieutenant of the Tower motioned to his servants, and they carriedthe lighted candles into the earl's cell. 

Then he gave Henry Howard his hand and silently led him back into theprison. 

Henry Howard exhibited no reluctance to follow him; but his hand hadseized Geraldine's arm, and he drew her along with him; his eye restedon her with a penetrating expression, and seemed to threaten her. 

They were now again in the room which they had before left with suchblessed hopes. 

The lieutenant of the Tower motioned to the servants to retire, thenturned with solemn earnestness to Earl Surrey. 

"My lord, " said he, "it is at the king's command that I bring you theselights. His majesty knows all that has happened here this night. He knewthat a plot was formed to rescue you; and while they believed they weredeceiving him, the plotters themselves were deceived. They had succeededunder various artful false pretences in influencing the king to give hissignet-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 himbelieve, but a woman, who came, not to take leave of you, but to deliveryou from prison. --My lady, the jailer whom you imagined that you hadbribed 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. Youwill not be able to release Earl Surrey; but if such is your command, Iwill myself see you to the ship that lies in the harbor for you ready tosail. No one will hinder you, my lady, from embarking on it; Earl Surreyis not permitted to accompany you!--My lord, soon the night is at anend, and you know that it will be your last night. The king has orderedthat I am not to prevent this lady, if she wishes to spend this nightwith you in your room. But she is allowed to do so only on the conditionthat the lights in your room remain burning. That is the king's expresswill, and these are his own words: 'Tell Earl Surrey that I allow him tolove his Geraldine, but that he is to open his eyes to see her! That hemay see, you will give him a light; and I command him not to extinguishit so long as Geraldine is with him. Otherwise he may confound her withanother woman; for in the dark one cannot distinguish even a harlequinfrom a queen!'--You have now to decide, my lord, whether this ladyremains 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 EarlSurrey; 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 wore now alone again, and stood confronting each other in silence. Naught was heard but the beating of their hearts, and the sighs ofanguish that burst from Geraldine's trembling lips. 

It was an awful, a terrible pause. Geraldine would gladly have given herlife could she thereby have extinguished the light and veiled herself inimpenetrable darkness. 

But the earl would see. With an angry, haughty look, he stepped upto her, and, as with commanding gesture lie raised his arm, Geraldineshuddered and submissively bowed her head. 

"Unveil your face!" said he, in a tone of command. She did not stir. Shemurmured a prayer, then raised her clasped hands to Henry and in a lowmoan, said: "Mercy! mercy!"

He extended his hand and seized the veil. 

"Mercy!" repeated she, in a voice of still deeper supplication--of stillgreater 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 hishands. 

Jane Douglas durst not breathe or stir. She was pale as marble; herlarge, burning eyes were fastened with an unutterable expression ofentreaty upon her lover, who stood before her with covered head, andcrushed with anguish. She loved him more than her life, more than hereternal salvation; and yet she it was that had brought him to this hourof agony. 

At length Earl Surrey let his hands fall from his face, and with afierce movement dashed the tears from his eyes. 

As he looked at her, Jane Douglas wholly involuntarily sank upon herknees, and raised her hands imploringly to him. "Henry Howard, " saidshe, in a low whisper, "I am Geraldine! Me have you loved; my lettershave you read with ecstasy, and to me have you often sworn that youloved my mind yet more than my appearance. And often has my heart beenfilled with rapture, when you told me you would love me however my facemight change, however old age or sickness might alter my features. Youremember, Henry, how I once asked you whether you would cease to loveme, if now God suddenly put a mask before my face, so that you could notrecognize my features. You replied to me: 'Nevertheless, I should loveand adore you; for what in you ravishes me, is not your face, but youyourself--yourself with your glorious being and nature. It is your souland your heart which can never change, which lie before me like a holybook, clear and bright!' That was your reply to me then, as you sworeto love me eternally. Henry Howard, I now remind you of your oath! I amyour Geraldine. It is the same soul, the same heart; only God has put amask upon my face!"

Earl Surrey had listened to her with eager attention, with increasingamazement. 

"It is she! It is really!" cried he, as she ceased. "It is Geraldine!"

And wholly overcome, wholly speechless with anguish, he sank into aseat. 

Geraldine flew to him; she crouched at his feet; she seized his droopinghand and covered it with kisses. And amid streaming tears, ofteninterrupted by her sighs and her sobs, she recounted to him the sad andunhappy history of her love; she unveiled before him the whole web ofcunning and deceit, that her father had drawn around them both. She laidher 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 escapeher touch. His noble countenance glowed with anger: his eyes dartedlightning; his long flowing hair shaded his lofty brow and his face likea sombre veil. He was beautiful in his wrath, beautiful as the archangelMichael trampling the dragon beneath his feet. And thus he bent downhis head toward her; thus he gazed at her with flashing and contemptuouslooks. 

"I forgive you?" said he. "Never will that be! Ha, shall I forgiveyou?--you, who have made my entire life a ridiculous lie, andtransformed the tragedy of my love into a disgusting farce? Oh, Geraldine, how I have loved you; and now you have become to me aloathsome spectre, before which my soul shudders, and which I mustexecrate! You have crushed my life, and even robbed my death of itssanctity; for now it is no longer the martyrdom of my love, but only thesavage mockery of my credulous heart. Oh, Geraldine, how beautiful itwould have been to die for you!--to go to death with your name uponmy lips!--to bless you!--to thank you for my happy lot, as the axe wasalready uplifted to smite off my head! How beautiful to think that deathdoes not separate us, but is only the way to an eternal union; that weshould lose each other but a brief moment here, to find each other againforevermore!"

Geraldine writhed at his feet like a worm trodden upon; and her groansof distress and her smothered moans were the heartrending accompanimentof his melancholy words. 

"But that is now all over!" cried Henry Howard; and his face, which wasbefore convulsed with grief and agony, now glowed again with wrath. "Youhave poisoned my life and my death; and I shall curse you for it, and mylast word will be a malediction on the harlequin Geraldine!"

"Have pity!" groaned Jane. "Kill me, Henry; stamp my head beneath yourfeet; only let this torture end!"

"Nay, no pity!" yelled he, wildly; "no pity for this impostor, who hasstolen my heart and crept like a thief into my love! Arise, and leavethis room; for you fill me with horror; and when I behold you, I feelonly that I must curse you! Ay, a curse on you and shame, Geraldine!Curse on the kisses that I have impressed on your lips--on the tears ofrapture that I have wept on your bosom. When I ascend the scaffold, Iwill curse you, and my last words shall be: 'Woe to Geraldine!--for sheis my murderess!'"

He stood there before her with arm raised on high, proud and great inhis wrath. She felt the destroying lightning of his eyes, though shedurst not look up at him, but lay at his feet moaning and convulsed, andconcealing her face in her veil, as she shuddered at her own picture. 

"And this be my last word to you Geraldine, " said Henry Howard, pantingfor breath: "Go hence under the burden of my curse, and live--if youcan!"

She unveiled her head, and raised her countenance toward him. Acontemptuous smile writhed about her deathly pale lips. "Live!" saidshe. "Have we not sworn to die with each other? Your curse does notrelease me from my oath, and when you descend into the grave, JaneDouglas will stand upon its brink, to wail and weep until you make alittle place for her there below; until she has softened your heart andyou take her again, as your Geraldine, into your grave. Oh, Henry! inthe grave, I no longer wear the face of Jane Douglas--that hated face, which I would tear with my nails. In the grave, I am Geraldine again. There I may again lie close to your heart, and again you will say tome: 'I love not your face and your external form! I love you yourself;I love your heart and mind; and that can never change; and can never beotherwise!'"

"Silence!" said he, roughly; "silence, if you do not want me to runmad! Cast not my own words in my face. They defile me, for falsehood hasdesecrated and trodden them in the mire. No! I will not make room foryou in my grave. I will not again call you Geraldine. You are JaneDouglas, and I hate you, and I hurl my curse upon your criminal head! Itell 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, plaintivestroke of the death-bell. 

"Do you hear, Jane Douglas?" said Surrey. "That bell summons me todeath. You it is that has poisoned my last hour. I was happy when Iloved you. I die in despair, for I despise and hate you. "

"No, no, you dare not die!" cried she, clinging to him with passionateanguish. "You dare not go to the grave with that fierce curse upon yourlips. I cannot be your murderess. Oh, it is not possible that they willput you to death--you, the beautiful, the noble and the virtuous EarlSurrey. My God, what have you done to excite their wrath? You areinnocent; and they know it. They cannot execute you; for it would bemurder! You have committed no offence; you have been guilty of nothing;no crime attaches to your noble person. It is indeed no crime to loveJane Douglas, and me have you loved--me alone. "

"No, not you, " said he proudly; "I have nothing to do with Lady JaneDouglas. I loved the queen, and I believed she returned my love. That ismy crime. "

The door opened: and in solemn silence the lieutenant of the Towerentered with the priests and his assistants. In the door was seen thebright-red dress of the headsman, who was standing upon the thresholdwith face calm and unmoved. 

"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 heardthe hum of the mob, which, curious and bloodthirsty as it ever is, hadstreamed hither to behold with laughing mouth the blood of the man whobut yesterday was its favorite. 

Earl Surrey stood there a moment in silence. His features worked andwere convulsed, and a deathlike pallor covered his cheeks. 

He trembled, not at death, but at dying. It seemed to him that healready felt on his neck the cold broad-axe which that frightful manthere held in his hand. Oh, to die on the battle-field--what a boon itwould have been! To come to an end on the scaffold--what a disgrace wasthis!

"Henry Howard, my son, are you prepared to die?" asked the priest. "Haveyou made your peace with God? Do you repent of your sins, and do youacknowledge death as a righteous expiation and punishment? Do youforgive your enemies, and depart hence at peace with yourself and withmankind?"

"I am prepared to die, " said Surrey, with a proud smile; "the otherquestions, my father, I will answer to my God. "

"Do you confess that you were a wicked traitor? And do you beg theforgiveness of your noble and righteous, your exalted and good king, forthe blasphemous injury to his sacred majesty?"

Earl Surrey looked him steadily in the eye. "Do you know what crime I amaccused of?"

The priest cast down his eyes, and muttered a few unintelligible words. 

With a haughty movement of the head, Henry Howard turned from the priestto the lieutenant of the Tower. 

"Do you know my crime, my lord?" said he. 

But the lord lieutenant also dropped his eyes, and remained silent. 

Henry Howard smiled. "Well, now, I will tell you. I have, as it becomesme, my father's son, borne the arms of our house on my shield and overthe entrance of my palace, and it has been discovered that the kingbears the same arms that we do. That is my high treason! I have saidthat the king is deceived in many of his servants, and often promoteshis favorites to high honors which they do not deserve. That is myoffence against his majesty; and it is that for which I shall lay myhead upon the block. [Footnote: These two insignificant accusations werethe only points that could be made out against the Earl of Surrey. Upon these charges, brought by his mother and sister, he wasexecuted. --Tytler, p. 492; Burnet, vol. I, p. 75; Leti, vol. I, p. 108. ]But make yourself easy; I shall myself add to my crimes one more, sothat they may be grievous enough to make the conscience of the righteousand generous king quiet. I have given up my heart to a wretched andcriminal love, and the Geraldine whom I have sung in many a poem, and have celebrated even before the king, was nothing but a miserablecoquettish strumpet!"

Jane Douglas gave a scream, and sank upon the ground as if struck bylightning. 

"Do you repent of this sin, my son?" asked the priest. "Do you turn yourheart 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 bearsin mind that the king will find no rest until the Howards also have goneto rest. Ah, King Henry! King Henry! Thou callest thyself the mightyking of the world, and yet thou tremblest before the arms of thysubject! My lord, if you go to the king to-day, give him Henry Howard'sgreeting; and tell him, I wish his bed may be as easy to him as thegrave will be to me. Now, come, my lords! It is time. "

With head proudly erect and calm step, he turned to the door. But nowJane Douglas sprang from the ground; now she rushed to Henry Howard andclung to him with all the might of her passion and agony. "I leave younot!" 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 command. She reeledback against the wall and looked at him, trembling and breathless. 

He was still lord over her soul; she was still subject to him in loveand obedience. She could not therefore summon up courage to defy hiscommand. 

She beheld him as he left the room and passed down the corridor with hisdreadful train; she heard their footsteps gradually die away; and thensuddenly in the yard sounded the hollow roll of the drum. 

Jane Douglas fell on her knees to pray, but her lips trembled so muchthat she could find no words for her prayer. 

The roll of the drum ceased in the court below, and only the death-bellstill continued to wail and wail. She heard a voice speaking loud andpowerful words. 

It was his voice; it was Henry Howard that was speaking. And now againthe hollow roll of the drums drowned his voice. 

"He dies! He dies, and I am not with him!" cried she, with a shriek; andshe gathered herself up, and as if borne by a whirlwind she dashed outof the room, through the corridor, and down the stairs. 

There she stood in the court. That dreadful black pile above there, inthe midst of this square crowded with men--that was the scaffold. Yonder she beheld him prostrate on his knees. She beheld the axe in theheadsman's hand; she saw him raise it for the fatal stroke. 

She was a woman no longer, but a lioness! Not a drop of blood was in hercheeks. Her nostrils were expanded and her eyes darted lightning. 

She drew out a dagger that she had concealed in her bosom, and made apath through the amazed, frightened, yielding crowd. 

With one spring she had rushed up the steps of the scaffold. She nowstood 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 ahollow blow. A red vapor-like streak of blood spurted up, and coveredJane Douglas with its crimson flood. 

"I come, Henry, I come!" cried she, with a wild shout. "I shall be withthee in death!" And again there was a flash through the air. It was thedagger that Jane Douglas plunged into her heart. 

She had struck well. No sound--no groan burst from her lips. With aproud smile she sank by her lover's headless corpse, and with a lastdying effort she said to the horrified headsman: "Let me share hisgrave! Henry Howard, in life and in death I am with thee!"

CHAPTER XXXIII. NEW INTRIGUES. 

Henry Howard was dead; and now one would have thought the king mightbe satisfied and quiet, and that sleep would no longer flee from hiseyelids, since Henry Howard, his great rival, had closed his eyesforever; since Henry Howard was no longer there, to steal away hiscrown, to fill the world with the glory of his deeds, to dim the geniusof 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. HenryHoward's father, the Duke of Norfolk, still lived. The cause of thiswas, that the king was always obliged to think of this powerful rival;and these thoughts chased sleep from his eyelids. His soul was sick ofthe Howards; therefore his body suffered such terrible pains. If theDuke of Norfolk would close his eyes in death, then would the kingalso be able to close his again in refreshing sleep! But this court ofpeers--and only by such a court could the duke be judged--this court ofpeers was so slow and deliberate! It worked far less rapidly, andwas not near so serviceable, as the Parliament which had so quicklycondemned Henry Howard. Why must the old Howard bear a ducal title? Whywas he not like his son, only an earl, so that the obedient Parliamentmight condemn him?

That was the king's inextinguishable grief, his gnawing pain, which madehim raving with fury and heated his blood, and thereby increased thepains of his body. 

He raved and roared with impatience. Through the halls of his palaceresounded 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 daya victim to the king's fury. No one could know whether the king'sever-increasing thirst for blood would not that day doom him. 

With the most jealous strictness the king, from his sick-couch, watchedover his royal dignity; and the least fault against that might arousehis wrath and bloodthirstiness. Woe to those who wanted still tomaintain that the pope was the head of the Church! Woe to those whoventured to call God the only Lord of the Church, and honored not theking as the Church's holy protector! The one, like the other, weretraitors and sinners, and he had Protestants and Roman Catholics alikeexecuted, however near they stood to his own person, and however closelyhe was otherwise bound to them. 

Whoever, therefore, could avoid it, kept himself far from the dreadedperson 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, and who seemedto be safe from his destroying wrath. There was the queen, who nursedhim with devoted attention, and John Heywood, who with untiring zealsustained Catharine in her difficult task, and who still sometimessucceeded in winning a smile from the king. There were, furthermore, Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and Earl Douglas. 

Lady Jane Douglas was dead. The king had therefore forgiven her father, and again shown himself gracious and friendly to the deeply-bowedearl. Besides, it was such an agreeable and refreshing feeling to thesuffering king to have some one about him who suffered yet more than hehimself! It comforted him to know that there could be agonies yet morehorrible than those pains of the body under which he languished. EarlDouglas suffered these agonies; and the king saw with a kind of delighthow his hair turned daily more gray, and his features became morerelaxed and feeble. Douglas was younger than the king, and yet howold and gray his face was beside the king's well-fed and bloomingcountenance!

Could the king have seen the bottom of his soul, he would have had lesssympathy with Earl Douglas's sorrow. 

He considered him only as a tender father mourning the death of hisonly child. He did not suspect that it was less the father that Jane'spainful death had smitten, than the ambitious man, the fanatical RomanCatholic, the enthusiastic disciple of Loyola, who with dismay sawall his plans frustrated, and the moment drawing nigh when he would bedivested of that power and consideration which he enjoyed in the secretleague of the disciples of Jesus. With him, therefore, it was less thedaughter, for whom he mourned, than the king's seventh wife. And thatCatharine wore the crown, and not his daughter--not Jane Douglas--his itwas that he could never forgive the queen. 

He wanted to take vengeance on the queen for Jane's death; he wanted topunish Catharine for his frustrated hopes, for his desires that shehad trampled upon. But Earl Douglas durst not himself venture to makeanother attempt to prejudice the king's mind against his consort. Henryhad interdicted him from it under the penalty of his wrath. With wordsof threatening, he had warned him from such an attempt; and Earl Douglasvery well knew that King Henry was inflexible in his determination, when the matter under consideration was the execution of a threatenedpunishment, Yet what Douglas durst not venture, that Gardiner couldventure--Gardiner, who, thanks to the capriciousness of the sick king, had for the few days past enjoyed again the royal favor so unreservedlythat the noble Archbishop Cranmer had received orders to leave the courtand retire to his episcopal residence at Lambeth. 

Catharine had seen him depart with anxious forebodings; for Cranmer hadever been her friend and her support. His mild and serene countenancehad ever been to her like a star of peace in the midst of thistempest-tossed and passion-lashed court life; and his gentle and noblewords had always fallen like a soothing balm on her poor tremblingheart. 

She felt that with his departure she lost her noblest support, herstrengthening aid, and that she was now surrounded only by enemies andopponents. True, she still had John Heywood, the faithful friend, theindefatigable servant; but since Gardiner had exercised his sinisterinfluence over the king's mind, John Heywood durst scarcely risk himselfin Henry's presence. True, she had also Thomas Seymour, her lover;but she knew and felt that she was everywhere surrounded by spies andeavesdroppers, and that now it required nothing more than an interviewwith Thomas Seymour--a few tender words--perchance even only a look fullof mutual understanding and love, in order to send him and her to thescaffold. 

She trembled not for herself, but for her lover. That made her cautiousand thoughtful. That gave her courage never to show Thomas Seymourother than a cold, serious face; never to meet him otherwise than in thecircle of her court; never to smile on him; never to give him her hand. 

She was, however, certain of her future. She knew that a day would comeon which the king's death would deliver her from her burdensome grandeurand her painful royal crown; when she should be free--free to give herhand to the man whom alone on earth she loved, and to become his wife. 

She waited for that day, as the prisoner does for the hour of hisrelease; but like him she knew that a premature attempt to escape fromher dungeon would bring her only ruin and death, and not freedom. 

She must be patient and wait. She must give up all personal intercoursewith her lover; and even his letters John Heywood could bring her butvery seldom, and only with the greatest caution. How often already hadnot John Heywood conjured her to give up this correspondence also! howoften had he not with tears in his eyes besought her to renounce thislove, which might one day be her ruin and her death! Catharine laughedat his gloomy forebodings, and opposed to his dark prophecies a braveryreliant on the future, the joyous courage of her love. 

She would not die, for happiness and love were awaiting her; she wouldnot renounce happiness and love, for the sake of which she could endurethis life in other respects--this life of peril, of resignation, ofenmity, and of hatred. 

But she wanted to live in order to be happy hereafter. This thought madeher brave and resolute; it gave her courage to defy her enemies withserene brow and smiling lip; it enabled her to sit with bright eye androsy cheeks at the side of her dreaded and severe husband, and, withcheerful wit and inexhaustible good-humor, jest away the frown from hisbrow, and vexation from his soul. 

But just because she could do this, she was a dangerous antagonist toDouglas and Gardiner. Just on that account, it was to be their highesteffort to destroy this beautiful young woman, who durst defy them andweaken their influence with the king. If they could but succeed inrendering the king's mind more and more gloomy; if they could butcompletely fill him again with fanatical religious zeal; then, and thenonly, could they hope to attain their end; which end was this: to bringback the king as a contrite, penitent, and humble son of the only savingmother Church, and to make him again, from a proud, vain, and imperiousprince, an obedient and submissive son of the pope. 

The king was to renounce this vain and blasphemous arrogance of wishingto be himself head of his Church. He was to turn away from the spirit ofnovelty and heresy, and again become a faithful and devout Catholic. 

But in order that they might attain this end, Catharine must be removedfrom him; he must no longer behold her rosy and beautiful face, and nolonger allow himself to be diverted by her sensible discourse and herkeen wit. 

"We shall not be able to overthrow the queen, " said Earl Douglas toGardiner, as the two stood in the king's anteroom, and as Catharine'scheerful chit-chat and the king's merry laugh came pealing to themfrom the adjoining room. "No, no, Gardiner, she is too powerful and toocrafty. The king loves her very much; and she is such an agreeable andrefreshing 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 mortified this love in him, this savage andarrogant man will return to us and to God, contrite and humble. " But weshall not be able to mortify it, friend. It is so ardent and selfish alove. 

"So much the greater will be the triumph, if our holy admonitions aresuccessful in touching his heart, Douglas. It is true he will suffervery much if he is obliged to give up this woman. But he needs preciselythis suffering in order to become contrite and penitent. His mind mustfirst be entirely darkened, so that we can illuminate it with the lightof faith. He must first be rendered perfectly isolated and comfortlessin order to bring him back to the holy communion of the Church, and to, find him again accessible to the consolations of that faith which alonecan save. "

"Ah, " sighed Douglas, "I fear that this will be a useless struggle. Theking is so vain of his self-constituted high-priesthood!"

"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 herholy sacraments render death easy to him. He is a wicked sinner and hasstings of conscience. This it is that will bring him back again to thebosom of the Catholic Church. "

"But when will that come to pass? The king is sick, and any day may putan end to his life. Woe to us, if he die before he has given the powerinto our hands, and nominated us his executors! Woe to us, if the queenis 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 donesoon, or it must remain forever unaccomplished. "

"It shall be done this very day, " said Gardiner, solemnly; and bendingdown closer to the earl's ear, he continued: "we have lulled the queeninto assurance and self-confidence, and by this means she shall beruined this very day. She relies so strongly on her power over theking's disposition, that she often summons up courage even to contradicthim, and to set her own will in opposition to his. That shall be herruin this very day! For mark well, earl; the king is now again like atiger that has been long fasting. He thirsts for blood! The queen hasan aversion to human blood, and she is horrified when she hears ofexecutions. So we must manage that these opposing inclinations may comeinto contact, and contend with each other. "

"Oh, I understand now, " whispered Douglas; "and I bow in reverencebefore the wisdom of your highness. You will let them both contend withtheir own weapons. "

"I will point out a welcome prey to his appetite for blood, and give hersilly compassion an opportunity to contend with the king for his prey. Do you not think, earl, that this will be an amusing spectacle, and onerefreshing to the heart, to see how the tiger and dove struggle witheach other? And I tell you the tiger thirsts so much for blood! Blood isthe only balm that he applies to his aching limbs, and by which alonehe imagines that he can restore peace and courage to his torturedconscience and his dread of death. Ah, ha! we have told him that, witheach new execution of a heretic, one of his great sins would be blottedout, and that the blood of the Calvinists serves to wash out of hisaccount-book some of his evil deeds. He would be so glad to be able toappear pure and guiltless before the tribunal of his God! Thereforehe needs very much heretical blood. But hark--the hour strikes whichsummons me to the royal chamber! There has been enough of the queen'slaughing and chit-chat. We will now endeavor to banish the smile foreverfrom her face. She is a heretic; and it is a pious work, well pleasingto God, if we plunge her headlong into ruin!"

"May God be with your highness, and assist you by His grace, that youmay accomplish this sublime work!"

"God will be with us, my son, since for Him it is that we labor andharass ourselves. To His honor and praise we bring these misbelievingheretics to the stake, and make the air re-echo with the agonizingshrieks of those who are racked and tortured. That is music wellpleasing to God; and the angels in heaven will triumph and be glad whenthe heretical and infidel Queen Catharine also has to strike up thismusic 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 you. Pray for us, and with us. Ah, we still owe this heretical queen a grudge for Anne Askew. To-daywe will pay her. Then she accused us, to-day we will accuse her, and Godand His host of saints and angels are with us. "

And the pious and godly priest crossed himself, and with head humblybowed and a soft smile about his thin, bloodless lips, strode throughthe hall in order to betake himself to the king's chamber. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. THE KING AND THE PRIEST. 

"God bless and preserve your majesty!" said Gardiner as he entered, tothe king, who just then was sitting with the queen at the chess-board. With frowning brow and compressed lips he looked over the game, whichstood unfavorable for him, and threatened him with a speedy checkmate. 

It was not wise in the queen not to let the king win; for hissuperstitious and jealous temper looked upon such a won game of chess aswithal an assault on his own person. And he who ventured to conquerhim at chess was always to Henry a sort of traitor that threatened hiskingdom, and was rash enough to attempt to seize the crown. 

The queen very well knew that, but--Gardiner was right--she was tooself-confident. She trusted a little to her power over the king; sheimagined he would make an exception in her favor. And it was so dull tobe obliged ever to be the losing and conquered party at this game; topermit the king always to appear as the triumphant victor, and to bestowon his game praise which he did not deserve. Catharine wanted to allowherself for once the triumph of having beaten her husband. She foughthim man to man; she irritated him by the ever-approaching danger. Theking, who at the beginning had been cheerful, and laughed when Catharinetook up one of his pieces--the king now no longer laughed. It wasno more a game. It was a serious struggle; and he contended with hisconsort for the victory with impassioned eagerness. Catharine did noteven see the clouds which were gathering on the king's brow. Her lookswere directed only to the chess-board; and, breathless with expectationand glowing with eagerness, she considered the move she was about tomake. 

But Gardiner was very well aware of the king's secret anger; and hecomprehended that the situation was favorable for him. 

With soft, sneaking step he approached the king, and, standing behindhim, looked over the game. 

"You are checkmated in four moves, my husband!" said the queen with acheerful laugh, as she made her move. 

A still darker frown gathered on the king's brow, and his lips wereviolently compressed. 

"It is true, your majesty, " said Gardiner. "You will soon have tosuccumb. Danger threatens you from the queen. "

Henry gave a start, and turned his face to Gardiner with an expressionof inquiry. In his exasperated mood against the queen, the craftypriest's ambiguous remark struck him with double keenness. 

Gardiner was a very skilful hunter; the very first arrow that heshot had hit. But Catharine, too, had heard it whiz. Gardiner's slow, ambiguous words had startled her from her artless security; and as shenow looked into the king's glowing, excited face, she comprehended herwant 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!" said the king, impetuously. "You have won, Catharine, and, by the holy mother of God! you can boast of the rare good fortuneof having vanquished Henry of England!"

"I will not boast of it, my noble husband!" said she, with a smile. "Youhave played with me as the lion does with the puppy, which he does notcrush only because he has compassion on him, and he pities the poorlittle creature. Lion, I thank you. You have been magnanimous to-day. You have let me win. "

The king's face brightened a little. Gardiner saw it. He must preventCatharine from following up her advantage further. 

"Magnanimity is an exalted, but a very dangerous virtue, " saidhe, gravely; "and kings above all things dare not exercise it; formagnanimity pardons crimes committed, and kings are not here to pardon, but to punish. "

"Oh, no, indeed, " said Catharine; "to be able to be magnanimous is thenoblest prerogative of kings; and since they are God's representativeson earth, they too must exercise pity and mercy, like God himself. "

The king's brow again grew dark, and his sullen looks stared at thechess-board. 

Gardiner shrugged his shoulders, and made no reply. He drew a roll ofpapers out of his gown and handed it to the king. 

"Sire, " said he, "I hope you do not share the queen's views; else itwould be bad for the quiet and peace of the country. Mankind cannot begoverned by mercy, but only through fear. Your majesty holds the swordin his hands. If you hesitate to let it fall on evil-doers, they willsoon 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 magnanimous heart, andsuspected that Gardiner had come to move the king to some harsh andbloody decision. 

She wanted to anticipate his design; she wanted to move the king tomildness. But the moment was unpropitious for her. 

The king, whom she had just before irritated by her victory over him, felt his vexation heightened by the opposition which she offered tothe bishop; for this opposition was at the same time directed againsthimself. The king was not at all inclined to exercise mercy; it was, therefore, a very wicked notion of the queen's to praise mercy as thehighest 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 donot deserve to be treated with mercy, for they are always ready to abuseit. Because we have for a few weeks lighted no fagot-piles and erectedno scaffolds, they imagine that we are asleep; and they begin theirtreasonable and mischievous doings with redoubled violence, and raisetheir sinful fists against us, in order to mock us. I see here anaccusation against one who has presumed to say that there is no king bythe grace of God; and that the king is a miserable and sinful mortal, just as well as the lowest beggar. Well, we will concede this man hispoint--we will not be to him a king by the grace of God, but a king bythe wrath of God! We will show him that we are not yet quite like thelowest beggar, for we still possess at least wood enough to build a pileof fagots for him. "

And as the king thus spoke, he broke out into a loud laugh, in whichGardiner heartily chimed. 

"Here I behold the indictment of two others who deny the king'ssupremacy, " continued Henry, still turning over the leaves of thepapers. "They revile me as a blasphemer, because I dare call myselfGod's representative--the visible head of His holy Church; they say thatGod alone is Lord of His Church, and that Luther and Calvin are moreexalted representatives of God than the king himself. Verily we musthold our royalty and our God-granted dignity very cheap, if we shouldnot punish these transgressors, who blaspheme in our sacred person GodHimself. "

He continued turning over the leaves. Suddenly a deep flush of angersuffused his countenance, and a fierce curse burst from his lips. Hethrew the paper on the table, and struck it with his clenched fist. "Areall the devils let loose, then?" yelled he, in wrath. "Does seditionblaze so wildly in my land, that we have no longer the power to subdueit? Here a fanatical heretic on the public street has warned the peoplenot to read that holy book which I myself, like a well-intentioned andprovident father and guardian, wrote for my people, and gave it themthat they might be edified and exalted thereby. And this book that felonhas shown to the people, and said to them: 'You call that the king'sbook; and you are right; for it is a wicked book, a work of hell, andthe devil is the king's sponsor!' Ah, I see well we must again show ourearnest and angry face to this miserable, traitorous rabble, that itmay again have faith in the king. It is a wretched, disgusting, andcontemptible mob--this people! They are obedient and humble only whenthey 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 rackedthem and burnt, they have respect for our excellency. We must, however, brand royalty on their bodies so that they may be sensible of it as areality. And by the eternal God, we will do that! Give me the pen herethat I may sign and ratify these warrants. But dip the pen well, yourhighness, for there are eight warrants, and I must write my name eighttimes. Ah, ah, it is a hard and fatiguing occupation to be a king, andno day passes without trouble and toil!"

"The Lord our God will bless this toil to you!" said Gardiner, solemnly, as he handed the king the pen. 

Henry was preparing to write, as Catharine laid her hand on his, andchecked 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 becarried away by your momentary vexation; let not the injured man bemightier in you than the righteous king. Let the sun set and riseon your wrath; and then, when you are perfectly calm, perfectlycomposed--then pronounce judgment on these accused. For consider itwell, my husband, these are eight death-warrants that you are here aboutto sign; and with these few strokes of the pen, you will tear eighthuman beings from life, from family, and from the world; you will takefrom the mother, her son; from the wife, her husband; and from theinfant children, their father. Consider it, Henry; it is so weighty aresponsibility that God has placed in your hand, and it is presumptuousnot to meet it in holy earnestness and undisturbed tranquillity ofmind. "

"Now, by the holy mother!" cried the king, striking vehemently upon thetable, "I believe, forsooth, you dare excuse traitors and blasphemers oftheir 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. Itis true these poor creatures have grievously erred, but they erred ashuman beings. Then let your punishment also be human. It is not wise, Oking, 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 mustshine upon the just and the unjust, no one of whom is so mighty thathe can cloud his splendor and dim his glory. Punish evil-doers andcriminals, but be noble and magnanimous toward those who have injuredyour person. "

"The king is no person that can be injured!" said Gardiner. "The king isa sublime idea, a mighty, world-embracing thought. Whoever injures theking, has not injured a person, but a divinely instituted royalty--theuniversal thought that holds together the whole world!"

"Whoever injures the king has injured God!" yelled the king; "andwhoever seizes our crown and reviles us, shall have his hand struck off, and his tongue torn out, as is done to atheists and patricides!"

"Well, strike off their hand then, mutilate them; but do not kill them!"cried Catharine, passionately. "Ascertain at least whether their crimeis so grievous as they want to make you believe, my husband. Oh, it isso easy now to be accused as a traitor and atheist! All that is neededfor it is an inconsiderate word, a doubt, not as to God, but to hispriests and this Church which you, my king, have established; and ofwhich the lofty and peculiar structure is to many so new and unusualthat they ask themselves in doubt whether that is a Church of God or apalace of the king, and that they lose themselves in its labyrinthinepassages, and wander about without being able to find the exit. "

"Had they faith, " said Gardiner, solemnly, "they would not lose theirway; and were God with them, the entrance would not be closed to them. "

"Oh, I well know that YOU are always inexorable!" cried Catharine, angrily. "But it is not to you either that I intercede for mercy, butto the king; and I tell you, sir bishop, it would be better for you, andmore worthy of a priest of Christian love, if you united your prayerswith mine, instead of wanting to dispose the king's noble heart toseverity. You are a priest; and you have learned in your own life thatthere are many paths that lead to God, and that we, one and all, doubtand are perplexed which of them is right. "

"How!" screamed the king, as he rose from his seat and gazed atCatharine with angry looks. "You mean, then, that the heretics also mayfind themselves on a path that leads to God?"

"I mean, " cried she, passionately, "that Jesus Christ, too, was calledan atheist, and executed. I mean that Stephen was stoned by Paul, andthat, nevertheless, both are now honored as saints and prayed to assuch. I mean, that Socrates was not damned because he lived beforeChrist, and so could not be acquainted with his religion; and thatHorace and Julius Caesar, Phidias and Plato, must yet be called greatand noble spirits, even though they were heathen. Yes, my lord andhusband, I mean that it behooves us well to exercise gentleness inmatters of religion, and that faith is not to be obtruded on men by mainforce as a burden, but is to be bestowed upon them as a benefit throughtheir own conviction. "

"So you do not hold these eight accused to be criminals worthy ofdeath?" asked Henry with studied calmness, and a composure maintainedwith difficulty. 

"No, my husband! I hold that they are poor, erring mortals, who seek theright path, and would willingly travel it; and who, therefore, ask indoubt 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 nomore of these matters. They are too grave for us to wish to decide themin the presence of our gay young queen. The heart of woman is alwaysinclined to gentleness and forgiveness. You should have borne that inmind, Gardiner, and not have spoken of these matters in the queen'spresence. "

"Sire, it was, however, the hour that you appointed for consultation onthese matters. "

"Was it the hour!" exclaimed the king, quickly. "Well, then we didwrong to devote it to anything else than grave employments; and youwill pardon me, queen, if I beg 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 asmiling countenance, conducted her to the door. As she stopped, and, looking him in the eye with an expression inquiring and anxious, openedher 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 theroom. The king watched her with sullen brow and angry looks. Then heturned round to Gardiner. 

"Now, " asked he, "what do you think of the queen?"

"I think, " said Gardiner, so slowly and so deliberately that each wordhad time to penetrate the king's sensitive heart like the prick of aneedle--"I think that she does not deem them criminals that call theholy book which you have written a work of hell; and that she has agreat deal of sympathy for those heretics who will not acknowledge yoursupremacy. "

"By the holy mother, I believe she herself would speak thus, and avowherself among my enemies, if she were not my wife!" cried the king, inwhose heart rage began already to seethe like lava in a volcano. 

"She does it already, although she is your wife, sire! She imaginesher exalted position renders her unamenable, and protects her fromyour righteous wrath; therefore she does what no one else dares do, andspeaks 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 totell me, your highness. It behooves me well to know what my wife doesand 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 falsedoctrine with eager mind, and receives the cursed priests of this sectinto her apartments, in order to hear their fanatical discourse andhellish inspiration. She speaks of these heretics as true believers andChristians; and denominates Luther the light that God has sent intothe world to illuminate the gloom and falsehood of the Church with thesplendor of truth and love--that Luther, sire, who dared write you suchshameful and insulting letters, and ridiculed in such a brutal manneryour royalty and your wisdom. "

"She is a heretic; and when you say that, you say everything!" screamedthe king. The volcano was ripe for an eruption, and the seething lavamust 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 thequeen, and that in the heart of her exalted husband love is mightierthan the faith. "

"Nobody shall suppose that he is secure from my wrath, and no one shallrely on the security afforded him by my love. She is a proud, arrogant, and audacious woman!" cried the king, whose looks were just thenfixed again on the chess-board, and whose spite was heightened by theremembrance of the lost game. "She ventures to brave us, and to have awill other than ours. By the holy mother, we will endeavor to break herstubbornness, and bend her proud neck beneath our will! Yes, I willshow the world that Henry of England is still the immovable andincorruptible. I will give the heretics an evidence that I am in realitythe defender and protector of the faith and of religion in my land, andthat nobody stands too high to be struck by my wrath, and to feel thesword of justice on his neck. She is a heretic; and we have sworn todestroy heretics with fire and sword. We shall keep our oath. "

"And God will bless you with His blessing. He will surround your headwith a halo of fame; and the Church will praise you as her most gloriouspastor, her exalted head. "

"Be it so!" said the king, as with youthful alacrity he strode acrossthe room; and, stepping to his writing-table, with a vigorous and fleethand he wrote down a few lines. Gardiner stood in the middle of the roomwith his hands folded; and his lips murmured in an undertone a prayer, while his large flashing eyes were fastened on the king with a curiousand penetrating expression. 

"Here, your highness, " the king then said, "take this paper--take itand order everything necessary. It is an arrest-warrant; and before thenight draws on, the queen shall be in the Tower. "

"Verily, the Lord is mighty in you!" cried Gardiner, as he took thepaper; "the heavenly hosts sing their hallelujah and look down withrapture on the hero who subdues his own heart to serve God and theChurch. "

"Take it and speed you!" said the king, hastily. "In a few hourseverything must be done. Give Earl Douglas the paper, and bid him gowith it to the lord-lieutenant of the Tower, so that he himself mayrepair hither with the yeomen of the guard. For this woman is yet aqueen, and even in the criminal I will still recognize the queen. Thelord-lieutenant himself must conduct her to the Tower. Hasten then, sayI! But, hark you, keep all this a secret, and let nobody know anythingof it till the decisive moment arrives. Otherwise her friends might takea notion to implore my mercy for this sinner; and I abhor this whiningand crying. Silence, then, for I am tired and need rest and sleep. Ihave, as you say, just done a work well pleasing to God; perhaps He maysend me, as a reward for it, invigorating and strengthening sleep, whichI have now so long desired in vain. "

And the king threw back the curtains of his couch, and, supported byGardiner, laid himself on the downy cushion. 

Gardiner drew the curtains again, and thrust the fatal paper into hispocket. Even in his hands it did not seem to him secure enough. What!might not some curious eye fasten on it, and divine its contents? Mightnot some impertinent and shameless friend of the queen snatch this paperfrom him, and carry it to her and give her warning? No, no, it was notsecure 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 withrapid strides, in order to acquaint Earl Douglas with the gloriousresult of his plans. 

Not a single time did he look back. Had he done so, he would havesprung back into that room as a tiger pounces on his prey. He would haveplunged, as the hawk stoops at the dove, at that piece of white paperthat lay there on the floor, exactly on the spot where Gardiner wasbefore standing when he placed into his pocket the arrest-warrantwritten by the king. 

Ah, even the gown of a priest is not always close enough to conceal adangerous secret; and even the pocket of a bishop may sometimes haveholes in it. 

Gardiner went away with the proud consciousness of having the orderof arrest in his pocket; and that fatal paper lay on the floor in themiddle of the king's chamber. 

Who will come to pick it up? Who will become the sharer of thisdangerous secret? To whom will this mute paper proclaim the shockingnews that the queen has fallen into disgrace, and is this very day to bedragged 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 haveso agitated and prostrated the king, that he has actually fallen asleepfrom weariness. 

Ah, the king should have been thankful to his wife for his vexationat the lost game of chess, and his wrath at Catharine's hereticalsentiments. These had fatigued him; these had lulled him to sleep. 

The warrant of arrest still lay on the floor. Now, quite softly, quitecautiously, the door opens. Who is it that dares venture to enter theking's room unsummoned and unannounced?

There are only three persons who dare venture that: the queen, PrincessElizabeth, and John Heywood the fool. Which of the three is it?

It is Princess Elizabeth, who comes to salute her royal father. Everyforenoon at this hour she had found the king in his room. Where washe then to-day? As she looked around the room with an inquiring andsurprised air, her eye fell on that paper which lay there on the floor. She picked it up, and examined it with childish curiosity. What couldthis paper contain? Surely it was no secret--else, it would not lie hereon the floor. 

She opened it and read. Her fine countenance expressed horror andamazement; a low exclamation escaped her lips. But Elizabeth had astrong and resolute soul; and the unexpected and the surprising did notdull her clear vision, nor cloud her sharp wit. The queen was in danger. The queen was to be imprisoned. THAT, this dreadful paper shrieked inher ear; but she durst not allow herself to be stunned by it. She mustact; she must warn the queen. 

She hid the paper in her bosom, and light as a zephyr she floated awayagain out of the chamber. 

With flashing eyes and cheeks reddened by her rapid race Elizabethentered the queen's chamber; with passionate vehemence she clasped herin her arms and tenderly kissed her. 

"Catharine, my queen, and my mother, " said she, "we have sworn to standby and protect each other when danger threatens us. Fate is gracious tome, for it has given into my hand the means of making good my oaththis very day. Take that paper and read! It is an order for yourimprisonment, made out by the king himself. When you have read it, thenlet us consider what is to be done, and how we can avert the danger fromyou. "

"An order of imprisonment!" said Catharine, with a shudder, as she readit. "An order of imprisonment--that is to say, a death-warrant! For whenonce the threshold of that frightful Tower is crossed, it denotes thatit 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 youcomprehend that--to have to die while life still throbs so fresh andwarm in our veins? To be obliged to go to death, while the future stillallures us with a thousand hopes, a thousand wishes? My God, to have todescend into the desolate prison and into the gloomy grave, while theworld greets us with alluring voices, and spring-tide has scarcely awokein our heart!"

Streams of tears burst from her eyes, and she hid her face in hertrembling hands. 

"Weep not, queen, " whispered Elizabeth, herself trembling and pale asdeath. "Weep not; but consider what is to be done. Each minute, and thedanger increases; each minute brings the evil nearer to us. "

"You are right, " said Catharine, as she again raised her head, and shookthe tears from her eyes. "Yes, you are right; it is not time to weep andwail. 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. Godwill assist me; God will help me to overcome this danger also, as I havealready 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 mindthe king's angry countenance, and the malicious smile of that malignantpriest, I believe I know the accusation. Yes--everything is now clear tome. 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 gainthe victory!"

With proud step and glowing cheeks she hurried to the door. Elizabethheld her hack. "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 easilychanged. We will now see which cunning is the stronger--the cunning ofthe priest or the cunning of the woman. Elizabeth, pray for me. I go tothe king; and you will either see me free and happy, or never again. "

She imprinted a passionate kiss on Elizabeth's lips, and hurriedly leftthe chamber. 

CHAPTER XXXV. CHESS-PLAY. 

It was many days since the king had been as well as he was to-day. For along time he had not enjoyed such refreshing sleep as on the day when hesigned the warrant for the queen's imprisonment. But he thought nothingat all about it. Sleep seemed to have obliterated all recollection of itfrom his memory. Like an anecdote which you listen to, and smile at forthe moment, but soon forget, so had the whole occurrence vanishedagain from him. It was an anecdote of the moment--a transientinterlude--nothing further. 

The king had slept well, and he had no care for anything else. Hestretched himself, and lay lounging on his couch, thinking with rapturehow fine it would be if he could enjoy such sweet and refreshing reposeevery day, and if no bad dreams and no fear would frighten away sleepfrom his eyes. He felt very serene and very good-humored; and had anyone now come to beg a favor of the king, he would have granted it in thefirst joy after such invigorating sleep. But he was alone; no one waswith him; he must repress his gracious desires. But no. Was it not asthough something were stirring and breathing behind the curtains?The king threw back the curtains, and a soft smile flitted over hisfeatures; for before his bed sat the queen. There she sat with rosycheeks and sparkling eyes, and greeted him with a roguish smile. 

"Ah, Kate, it is you!" cried the king. "Well, now, I understand how ithappened that I have had such a sound and refreshing sleep! You stoodby as my good angel, and scared the pains and bad dreams away from mycouch. "

And as he said this, he reached out his hand and tenderly stroked hervelvet cheek. He did not at all recollect that he had already, as itwere, devoted that charming head to the scaffold, and that in a fewhours more those bright eyes were to behold naught but the night ofthe dungeon. Sleep, as we have said, had lulled to rest also therecollection of this; and the evil thoughts had not yet awoke again inhim. To sign an order of arrest or a death-warrant was with the kingsuch a usual and every-day matter, that it constituted no epoch in hislife, and neither burdened him with troubles of conscience nor made hisheart shudder and tremble. 

But Catharine thought of it, and as the king's hand stroked her cheek, it was as though death were just then touching her, never again torelease her. However, she overcame this momentary horror, and had thecourage to preserve her serene and innocent air. 

"You call me your good angel, my husband, " said she, with a smile; "butyet I am nothing more than your little Puck, who bustles about you, andnow and then makes you laugh with his drolleries. "

"And a dear little Puck you are, Katie, " cried the king, who alwaysgazed upon his wife's rosy and fresh countenance with real satisfaction. 

"Then I will prove myself this very day your Puck, and allow you no morerepose on your couch, " said she, as she made a mock effort to raise himup. "Do you know, my husband, why I came here? A butterfly has tappedat my window. Only think now, a butterfly in winter! That betokens thatthis time winter is spring; and the clerk of the weather above there hasconfounded January with March. The butterfly has invited us, king; andonly see! the sun is winking into the window to us, and says we have butto come out, as he has already dried the walks in the garden below, andcalled forth a little grass on the plat. And your rolling chair standsall ready, my lord and husband, and your Puck, as you see, has alreadyput on her furs, and clad herself in armor against the winter, which, however, is not there!"

"Well, then, help me, my dearest Puck, so that I can arise, and obeythe command of the butterfly and the sun and my lovely wife, " criedthe king, as he put his arm around Catharine's neck, and slowly raisedhimself from the couch. 

She busied herself about him with officious haste; she put her armtenderly on his shoulder and supported him, and properly arranged forhim the gold chain, which had slipped out of place on his doublet, andplayfully plaited the lace ruff which was about his neck. 

"Is it your order, my husband, that your servants come?--the master ofceremonies, who, without doubt, awaits your back in the anteroom--thelord bishop--who a while ago made such a black-looking face at me? Buthow! my husband, your face, too, is now in an eclipse? How? Has yourPuck perchance said something to put you out of tune?"

"No, indeed!" said the king, gloomily; but he avoided meeting hersmiling glance and looking in her rosy face. 

The evil thoughts had again awoke in him; and he now remembered thewarrant of arrest that he had given Gardiner. He remembered it, andhe regretted it. For she was so fair and lovely--his young queen; sheunderstood so well by her jests to smooth away care from his brow, andaffright vexation from his soul--she was such an agreeable and sprightlypastime, such a refreshing means of driving away ennui. 

Not for her sake did he regret what he had done, but only on his ownaccount. From selfishness alone, he repented having issued that orderfor the queen's imprisonment. Catharine observed him. Her glance, sharpened by inward fear, read his thoughts on his brow, and understoodthe sigh which involuntarily arose from his breast. 

She again seized courage; she might succeed in turning away by a smilethe sword that hung over her head. 

"Come, my lord and husband, " said she, cheerfully, "the sun beckons tous, and the trees shake their heads indignantly because we are not yetthere. "

"Yes, come, Kate, " said the king, rousing himself with an effort fromhis brown study; "come, we will go down into God's free air. PerhapsHe is nearer to us there, and may illuminate us with good thoughts andwholesome resolutions. Come, Kate. "

The queen gave him her arm, and, supported on it, the king advanced afew steps. But suddenly Catharine stood still; and as the king fastenedon 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 andwholesome resolutions has touched my heart and startled my conscience. My husband, you are right; God is there without, and I dare not ventureto behold the sun, which is God's eye, before I have made my confessionand received absolution. Sire, I am a great sinner, and my consciencegives me no rest. Will you be my confessor, and listen to me?"

The king sighed. "Ah, " thought he, "she is hurrying to destruction, andby her own confession of guilt she will make it impossible for me tohold her guiltless!"

"Speak!" said he aloud. 

"First, " said she, with downcast eyes--"first, I must confess to youthat I have to-day deceived you, my lord and king. Vanity and sinfulpride enticed me to this; and childish anger made me consummate whatvanity whispered to me. But I repent, my king; I repent from the bottomof my soul, and I swear to you, my husband--yes, I swear to you by allthat is sacred to me, that it is the first and only time that I havedeceived you. And never will I venture to do it again, for it is adismal and awful feeling to stand before you with a guilty conscience. "

"And in what have you deceived us, Kate?" asked the king; and his voicetrembled. 

Catharine drew from her dress a small roll of paper, and, humbly bowing, handed it to the king. "Take and see for yourself, my husband, " saidshe. 

With hurried hand the king opened the paper, and then looked in utterastonishment, now at its contents, and now at the blushing face of thequeen. 

"What!" said he, "you give me a pawn from the chess-board! What doesthat mean?"

"That means, " said she, in a tone of utter contrition--"that means, thatI 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, andI was afraid you would no more allow me the pleasure of playing withyou, when you perceived what a weak and contemptible antagonist I am. And behold, this little pawn was my enemy! It stood near my queen andthreatened her with check, while it discovered check to my king fromyour bishop. You were just going to make this move, which was to ruinme, when Bishop Gardiner entered. You turned away your eyes and salutedhim. You were not looking on the game. Oh, my lord and husband, thetemptation was too alluring and seductive; and I yielded to it. SoftlyI took the pawn from the board, and slipped it into my pocket. Whenyou looked again at the game, you seemed surprised at first; but yourmagnanimous and lofty spirit had no suspicion of my base act; so youinnocently played on; and so I won the game of chess. Oh, my king, willyou pardon me, and not be angry with me?" The king broke out into a loudlaugh, and looked with an expression of tenderness at Catharine, whostood before him with downcast eyes, abashed and blushing. This sightonly redoubled his merriment, and made him again and again roar out withlaughter. 

"And is that all your crime, Kate?" asked he, at length, drying hiseyes. "You have stolen a pawn from me--this is your first and onlydeception?"

"Is it not indeed great enough, sire? Did I not purloin it because I wasso high-minded as to want to win a game of chess from you? Is not thewhole court even now acquainted with my splendid luck? And does it notknow that I have been the victor to-day, whilst yet I was not entitledto be so--whilst I deceived you so shamefully?"

"Now, verily, " said the king, solemnly, "happy are the men who are notworse deceived by their wives than you have deceived me to-day; andhappy are the women whose confessions are so pure and innocent as yourshave been to-day! Do but lift up your eyes again, my Katie; that sin isforgiven you; and by God and by your king it shall be accounted to youas a virtue. "

He laid his hand on her head, as if in blessing, and gazed at her longand silently. Then, said he, laughingly:

"According to this, then, my Kate, I should have been the victor ofto-day, and not have lost that game of chess. "

"No, " said she, dolefully, "I must have lost it, if I had not stolen thepawn. "

Again the king laughed. Catharine said, earnestly:

"Do but believe me, my husband, Bishop Gardiner alone was the cause ofmy fall. Because he was by, I did not want to lose. My pride revoltedto think that this haughty and arrogant priest was to be witness ofmy defeat. In mind, I already saw the cold and contemptuous smile withwhich he would look down on me, the vanquished; and my heart rose inrebellion at the thought of being humbled before him. And now I havearrived at the second part of my fault which I want to confess to youto-day. Sire, I must acknowledge another great fault to you. I havegrievously offended against you to-day, in that I contradicted you, andwithstood your wise and pious words. Ah, my husband, it was not doneto spite you, but only to vex and annoy the haughty priest. For I mustconfess to you, my king, I hate this Bishop of Winchester--ay, yetmore--I have a dread of him; for my foreboding heart tells me that heis my enemy, that he is watching each of my looks, each of my words, so that he can make from them a noose to strangle me. He is the evildestiny 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 yourheart, and say to you: 'Protect me, my king, and have compassion on me!Have faith in me and love me; for if you do not, I am lost! The evilfiend is there to destroy me. '"

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 oftender entreaty and touching devotion. 

The king bent down and kissed her brow. "Oh, sancta simplicitas, " softlymurmured he--"she knows not how nigh she is to the truth, and how muchreason 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 whenever hecan; and though his wounds are made only with pins, that comes only fromthis, that he is afraid that you might discover it if he drew a daggeron me, whilst you might not notice the pin with which he secretly woundsme. And what was his coming here to-day other than a new assault on me?He knows very well--and I have never made a secret of it--that I am anenemy to this Roman Catholic religion the pope of which has dared tohurl his ban against my lord and husband; and that I seek with livelyinterest to be instructed as to the doctrine and religion of theso-called reformers. "

"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 yourbelief is mine. If I am so, so too is Cranmer, the noble Archbishopof Canterbury; for he is my spiritual adviser and helper. But Gardinerwishes that I were a heretic, and he wants me likewise to appear so toyou. See, my husband, why it was that he laid those eight death-warrantsbefore you awhile ago. There were eight, all heretics, whom you were tocondemn--not a single papist among them; and yet I know that the prisonsare full of papists, who, in the fanaticism of their persecuted faith, have spoken words just as worthy of punishment as those unfortunate oneswhom 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 suppliantly, had they been papists whom you were to sentence to death! But Gardinerwanted a proof of my heresy; and therefore he selected eight heretics, for whom I was to oppose your hard decree. "

"It is true, " said the king, thoughtfully; "there was not a singlepapist among them! But tell me, Kate--are you really a heretic, and anadversary of your king?"

With a sweet smile she looked deep into his eyes, and humbly crossed herarms 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 createdafter the likeness of God, and the woman after the likeness of man. Sothe woman is only the man's second self; and he must have compassionon her in love; and he must give her of his spirit, and influence herunderstanding from his understanding. Therefore your duty is to instructme, my husband; and mine is, to learn of you. And of all the women inthe world, to no one is this duty made so easy as to me; for God hasbeen gracious to me and given me as my husband a king whose prudence, wisdom, and learning are the wonder of all the world. " [Footnote: Thequeen's own words, as they have been given by all historical writers. See on this point Burnet, vol. I, p. 84; Tytler, p. 413; Larrey's"Histoire d'Angleterre, " vol. II, p. 201; Leti, vol. I, p. 154, (death-sign) Historical. The king's own words. ] "What a sweet littleflatterer you are, Kate!" said the king, with a smile; "and with what acharming voice you want to conceal the truth from us! The truth is, thatyou yourself are a very learned little body, who has no need at allto learn anything from others, but who would be well able to instructothers. "

"Oh, if it is so, as you say, " cried Catharine, "well, then would Iteach the whole world to love my king as I do, and to be subject to himin humility, faithfulness, and obedience, as I am. "

And as she thus spoke, she threw both her arms about the king's neck, and leaned her head with a languishing expression upon his breast. 

The king kissed her, and pressed her fast to his heart. He thought nolonger of the danger that was hovering over Catharine's head; he thoughtonly that he loved her, and that life would be very desolate, verytedious and sad without her. 

"And now, my husband, " said Catharine, gently disengaging herself fromhim--"now, since I have confessed to you and received absolution fromyou--now let us go down into the garden, so that God's bright sun mayshine into our hearts fresh and glad. Come, my husband, your chair isready; and the bees and the butterflies, the gnats and the flies, havealready practised a hymn, with which they are going to greet you, myhusband. "

Laughing and jesting, she drew him along to the adjoining room, wherethe courtiers and the rolling-chair were standing ready; and the kingmounted his triumphal car, and allowed himself to be rolled throughthe carpeted corridors, and down the staircases, transformed into broadinclined planes of marble, into the garden. 

The air had the freshness of winter and the warmth of spring. The grasslike a diligent weaver was already beginning to weave a carpet over theblack level of the square; and already here and there a tiny blossom, curious and bashful, was peeping out and appeared to be smiling inastonishment at its own premature existence. The sun seemed so warm andbright; the heavens were so blue!

At the king's side went Catharine, with such rosy cheeks and sparklingeyes. Those eyes were always directed to her husband; and her charmingprattle was to the king like the melodious song of birds, and made hisheart leap for pleasure and delight. But how? What noise all at oncedrowned Catharine's sweet prattle? And what was it that flashed up thereat the end of that large alley which the royal pair with their suite hadjust entered?

It was the noise of soldiers advancing; and shining helmets andcoats-of-mail flashed in the sunlight. 

One band of soldiers held the outlet from the alley; another advanced upit in close order. At their head were seen striding along Gardiner andEarl Douglas, and at their side the lieutenant of the Tower. 

The king's countenance assumed a lowering and angry expression and hischeeks were suffused with crimson. With the quickness of youth he rosefrom his chair, and, raised to his full height, he looked with flamingeyes 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 fearalready 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 tothem, that dare make King Henry's consort tremble! I will speak withGardiner. "

And almost roughly pushing aside the queen, the king, utterly heedlessin his violent excitement of the pain of his foot, went in a quick paceto meet the advancing troop. 

He ordered them by his gesture to halt, and called Gardiner and Douglasto him. "What want you here? And what means this strange array?" askedhe, in a rough tone. 

The two courtiers stared at him with looks of amazement, and durst notanswer him. 

"Well!" asked the king, with ever-rising wrath, "will you at lengthtell me by what right you intrude into my garden with an armedhost--specially at the same hour that I am here with my consort?Verily, there is no sufficient excuse for such a gross violation ofthe reverence which you owe your king and master; and I marvel, my lordmaster of ceremonies, that you did not seek to prevent this indecorum!"

Earl Douglas muttered a few words of apology, which the king did notunderstand, or did not want to understand. 

"The duty of a master of ceremonies is to protect his king from everyannoyance, and you, Earl Douglas, offer it to me yourself. Perchance youwant thereby to show that you are weary of your office. Well, then, mylord, I dismiss you from it, and that your presence may not remind meof this morning's transaction, you will leave the court and London!Farewell, my lord!"

Earl Douglas, turning pale and trembling, staggered a few stepsbackward, and gazed at the king with astonishment. He wanted to speak, but Henry, with a commanding wave of the hand, bade him be silent. 

"And now for you, my lord bishop!" said the king, and his eyes wereturned on Gardiner with an expression so wrathful and contemptuous, thathe turned pale and looked down to the ground. "What means this strangetrain 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 aheretic hunt in the garden of your king?"

"Sire, " said Gardiner, completely beside himself, "your majesty wellknows why I come; it was at your majesty's command that I with EarlDouglas and the lieutenant of the Tower came, in order to--"

"Dare not to speak further!" yelled the king, who became still moreangry because Gardiner would not understand him and comprehend thealtered state of his mind. "How dare you make a pretence of my commands, whilst I, full of just amazement, question you as to the cause of yourappearance? 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 disavow you and yourfoolish 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 seenthat here, where the king is taking an airing with his consort, therecould be no one whom these catchpolls had to look for! The presence ofthe royal majesty is like the presence of God; it dispenses happinessand peace about it; and whoever is touched by his glory, is graced andsanctified thereby. "

"But, your majesty, " screamed Gardiner, whom anger and disappointed hopehad made forgetful of all considerations, "you wanted me to arrest thequeen; you yourself gave me the order for it; and now when I come toexecute your will--now you repudiate me. "

The king uttered a yell of rage, and with lifted arm moved some stepstoward Gardiner. 

But suddenly he felt his arm held back. It was Catharine, who hadhurried 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 theLord; and so let his sacred robe protect him, though perchance his deedscondemn him!"

"Ah, do you plead for him?" cried the king. "Really, my poor wife, yoususpect not how little ground you have to pity him, and to beg my mercyfor him. [Footnote: The king's own words, --See Leti, vol. I, p. 133, ]But you are right. We will respect his cassock, and think no more ofwhat a haughty and intriguing man is wrapped in it. --But beware, priest, that you do not again remind me of that. My wrath would then inevitablystrike you; and I should have as little mercy for you as you say I oughtto show to other evil-doers. And in as much as you are a priest, bepenetrated with a sense of the gravity of your office and the sacrednessof your calling. Your episcopal see is at Winchester, and I think yourduties call you thither. We no longer need you, for the noble Archbishopof Canterbury is coming back to us, and will have to fulfil the dutiesof his office near us and the queen. Farewell!"

He turned his back on Gardiner, and, supported on Catharine'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 harmlesslyover. We thinks we still owe you special thanks for this; and we wouldlike to show you that by some office of love. Is there nothing thatwould give you special 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 powerof 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-warrantsto-day. Oh, my husband, make of these eight criminals eight happy, thankful subjects; teach them to love that king whom they havereviled--teach their children, their wives and mothers to pray for you, whilst you restore life and freedom to these fathers, these sons andhusbands, and while you, great and merciful, like Deity, pardon them. "

"So shall it be!" cried the king, cheerfully. "Our hand shall haveto-day no other work than to rest in yours; and we will spare itfrom making these eight strokes of the pen. The eight evil-doers arepardoned; and they shall be free this very day. "

With an exclamation of rapturous delight Catharine pressed Henry's handto 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 apoor prisoner--for the freedom of a human heart, sire. "

The king laughed. "A human heart? Does that then run about on thestreet, 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 lawcompel her to renounce her freedom of choice. Only think--to want tobid a woman's heart, before she can love, to inquire first about thegenealogical tree, and to look at the coat-of-arms before she noticesthe man!"

"Oh, women, women, what foolish children you are, though!" cried theking, laughingly. "The question is about thrones, and you think aboutyour 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 freeand glad heart. "

He took the queen's arm, and, supported on it, walked slowly up thealley with her. The lords and ladies of the court followed them insilence and at a respectful distance; and no one suspected that thiswoman, who was stepping along so proud and magnificent, had but just nowescaped an imminent peril of her life; that this man, who was leaningon her arm with such devoted tenderness, had but a few hours beforeresolved on her destruction. [Footnote: All this plot instigated byGardiner against the queen is, in minutest details, historically true, and is found substantially the same in all historical works. ] And whilstchatting confidentially together they both wandered through the avenues, two others with drooping head and pale face left the royal castle, whichwas to be to them henceforth a lost paradise. Sullen spite and raginghate were in their hearts, but yet they were obliged to endure insilence; they were obliged to smile and to seem harmless, in order notto prepare a welcome feast for the malice of the court. They felt thespiteful looks of all these courtiers, although they passed by them withdown-cast eyes. They imagined they heard their malicious whispers, their derisive laughter; and it pierced their hearts like the stab of adagger. 

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 consumedthem--free to be able to break out into bitter execrations, into cursesand lamentations. 

"Lost! all is lost!" said Earl Douglas to himself in a hollow voice. "Iam 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 abeggar, I now stand on the street forsaken and without comfort; and ourholy mother the Church will no longer heed the son who loved herand sacrificed himself for her, since he was so unfortunate, and hissacrifice unavailing. "

"Despair not!" said Gardiner, solemnly. "Clouds gather above us; butthey are dispersed again. And after the day of storm, comes again theday of light. Our day also will come, my friend. Now, we go hence, ourheads strewn with ashes, and bowed at heart; but, believe me, we shallone day come again with shining face and exultant heart; and the flamingsword of godly wrath will glitter in our hands, and a purple robe willenfold us, dyed in the blood of heretics whom we offer up to the Lordour 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 hasprepared 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 horriblesmile, and, bending down closer to Douglas, he whispered: "the king hasonly a few days more to live. He does not suspect how near he is to hisdeath, and nobody has the courage to tell him. But his physician hasconfided it to me. His vital forces are consumed, and death standsalready before his door to throttle him. "

"And when he is dead, " said Earl Douglas, shrugging his shoulders, "hisson Edward will be king, and those heretical Seymours will control thehelm of state! Call you that hope, your highness?"

"I call it so. "

"Do you not know that Edward, young as he is, is nevertheless afanatical adherent of the heretical doctrine, and at the same time afurious opponent of the Church in which alone is salvation?"

"I know it, but I know also that Edward is a feeble boy; and there iscurrent in our Church a holy prophecy which predicts that his reign isonly of short duration. God only knows what his death will be, but theChurch has often before seen her enemies die a sudden death. Death hasbeen often before this the most effective ally of our holy mother theChurch. Believe me, then, my son and hope, for I tell you Edward's rulewill be of short duration. And after him she will ascend the throne, thenoble and devout Mary, the rigid Catholic, who hates heretics as muchas Edward loves them. Oh, friend, when Mary ascends the throne, we shallrise from our humiliation, and the dominion will be ours. Then will allEngland become, as it were, a single great temple, and the fagot-pilesabout 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 themstrike 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 evildays in Scotland, and wait for the good. "

"And I go, as this king by the wrath of God has commanded, to myepiscopal seat. The wrath of God will soon call Henry hence. May hisdying hour be full of torment, and may the Holy Father's curse berealized and fulfilled in him! Farewell! We go with palms of peaceforced on us; but we will return with the naming sword, and our handswill be dripping with heretic blood. "

They once more shook hands and silently departed, and before eveningcame on they had both left London. [Footnote: Gardiner's prophecy wassoon fulfilled. A few days after Gardiner had fallen into disgraceHenry, the Eighth died, and his son Edward, yet a minor, ascended thethrone. But his rule was of brief duration. After a reign of scarcelysix years, he died a youth of the age of sixteen years, and his sisterMary, called the Catholic, ascended the throne. Her first act wasto release Gardiner, who under Edward's reign had been confined as aprisoner in the Tower, and to appoint him her minister, and later, tothe place of lord chancellor. He was one of the most furious persecutorsof the Reformers. Once he said at a council in the presence of thebigoted queen; "These heretics have a soul so black that it can bewashed clean only in their own blood. " He it was, too, who urged thequeen to such severe and odious measures against the Princess Elizabeth, and caused her to be a second time declared a bastard and unworthyof succeeding to the throne. When Mary died, Gardiner performed, inWestminster Abbey, where she was entombed, the service for the dead inthe presence of her successor, Queen Elizabeth. Gardiner's discourse wasan enthusiastic eulogium of the deceased queen, and he set forth, as herspecial merit, that she hated the heretics so ardently and had so manyof them executed. He closed with an invective against the Protestants, in which he so little spared the young queen, and spoke of her in suchinjurious terms, that he was that very day committed to prison. --Leti. Vol. I, p. 314. ] A short time after this eventful walk in the garden ofWhitehall, the queen entered the apartments of the Princess Elizabeth, who hastened to meet her with a burst of joy, and clasped her wildly inher arms. 

"Saved!" whispered she. "The danger is overcome, and again you are themighty queen, the adored wife!"

"And I have you to thank that I am so, princess! Without that warrantof arrest which you brought me, I was lost. Oh, Elizabeth, but what amartyrdom it was! To smile and jest, whilst my heart trembled with dreadand horror; to appear innocent and unembarrassed, whilst it seemed tome as if I heard already the whiz of the axe that was about to strike myneck! Oh, my God, I passed through the agonies and the dread of a wholelifetime in that one hour! My soul has been harassed till it is weariedto death, and my strength is exhausted. I could weep, weep continuallyover this wretched, deceitful world, in which to wish right and to dogood avail nothing; but in which you must dissemble and lie, deceive anddisguise yourself, if you do not want to fall a victim to wickedness andmischief. 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 knowher sighs and her tears. "

"And you may let me also see them, queen, " said Elizabeth, heartily;"for you well know you may trust and rely on me. "

Catharine kissed her fervently. "You have done me a great serviceto-day, and I have come, " said she, "to thank you, not with soundingwords only, but by deeds. Elizabeth, your wish will be fulfilled. Theking will repeal the law which was to compel you to give your hand onlyto a husband of equal birth. "

"Oh, " cried Elizabeth, with flashing eyes, "then I shall, perhaps, someday be able to make him whom I love a king. " Catharine smiled. "Youhave a proud and ambitious heart, " said she. "God has endowed you withextraordinary ability. Cultivate it and seek to increase it; for myprophetic heart tells me that you are destined to become, one day, Queenof England. [Footnote: Catharine's own words. --See Leti, vol. I, p. 172. ] But who knows whether then you will still wish to elevate him whomyou now love, to be your husband? A queen, as you will be, sees withother eyes than those of a young, inexperienced maiden. Perchance I maynot have done right in moving the king to alter this law; for I amnot acquainted with the man that you love; and who knows whether he isworthy that you should bestow on him your heart, so innocent and pure?"

Elizabeth threw both her arms about Catharine's neck, and clung tenderlyto 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 wholeworld; and though he is no king, yet he is a king's brother-in-law, andwill some day be a king's uncle. "

Catharine felt her heart, as it were, convulsed, and a slight tremor ranthrough 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 inknowing it. The name of him whom I love, queen, is Thomas Seymour. "

Catharine uttered a scream, and pushed Elizabeth passionately away fromher heart. "Thomas Seymour?" cried she, in a menacing tone. "What! doyou dare love Thomas Seymour?"

"And why should I not dare?" asked the young girl in astonishment. "Whyshould I not give him my heart, since, thanks to your intercession, Iam no longer bound to choose a husband of equal birth? Is not ThomasSeymour one of the first of this land? Does not all England look onhim with pride and tenderness? Does not every woman to whom he deignsa look, feel herself honored? Does not the king himself smile andfeel more pleased at heart, when Thomas Seymour, that young, bold, andspirited hero, stands by his side?"

"You are right!" said Catharine, whose heart every one of theseenthusiastic words, lacerated like the stab of a dagger--"yes, you areright. He is worthy of being loved by you--and you could hit upon nobetter choice. It was only the first surprise that made me see thingsotherwise than they are. Thomas Seymour is the brother of a queen: whythen should he not also be the husband of a royal princess?"

With a bashful blush, Elizabeth hid her smiling face in Catharine'sbosom. She did not see with what an expression of alarm and agony thequeen observed her; how her lips were convulsively compressed, and hercheeks 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 tobe able to do that. "

"My God! how pale you are, queen!" cried Elizabeth, who just now noticedCatharine'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. "Theexcitement 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 almostlifeless at my side. I came to bring you the king's message; now dutycalls me to my husband's sickbed. Farewell, Elizabeth. "

She waved a good-by to her with her hand, and with hurried step left theroom. She summoned up courage to conceal the agonies of her soul, and topass proud and stately through the halls. To the courtiers bowing beforeher, she would still be the queen, and no one should suspect what agonywas torturing her within like flames of fire. But at last arrived at herboudoir--at last sure of being overheard and observed by no one--she wasno 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 become mad, so that I may no longerknow that he has forsaken me!"

CHAPTER XXXVI. THE CATASTROPHE. 

After days of secret torture and hidden tears, after nights of sobbinganguish and wailing sorrow, Catharine had at last attained to inwardpeace; she had at last taken a firm and decisive resolution. 

The king was sick unto death; and however much she had suffered andendured from him, still he was her husband; and she would not standby his deathbed as a perjured and deceitful woman; she would not beconstrained to cast down her eyes before the failing gaze of the dyingking. She would renounce her love--that love, which, however, hadbeen as pure and chaste as a maiden's prayer--that love, which was asunapproachably distant as the blush of morn, and yet had stood above herso vast and brilliant, and had irradiated the gloomy pathway of her lifewith celestial light. 

She would make the greatest of sacrifices; she would give her loverto another. Elizabeth loved him. Catharine would not investigate andthoroughly examine the point, whether Thomas Seymour returned her love, and whether the oath he had taken to her, the queen, was really nothingmore than a fancy of the brain, or a falsehood. No, she did not believeit; she did not believe that Thomas Seymour was capable of treachery, of double-dealing. But Elizabeth loved him; and she was young andbeautiful, and a great future lay before her. Catharine loved ThomasSeymour strongly enough not to want to deprive him of this future, butgladly to present herself a sacrifice to the happiness of her lover. What was she--the woman matured in grief and suffering--in comparisonwith this youthful and fresh blossom, Elizabeth? What had she to offerher beloved further than a life of retirement, of love, and of quiethappiness? When once the king is dead and sets her free, Edward theSixth ascends the throne; and Catharine then is nothing more than theforgotten and disregarded widow of a king; while Elizabeth, the king'ssister, may perhaps bring a crown as her dower to him whom she loves. 

Thomas Seymour was ambitious. Catharine knew that. A day might comewhen he would repent of having chosen the widow of a king instead of theheiress to a throne. 

Catharine would anticipate that day. She would of her own free-willresign her lover to Princess Elizabeth. She had by a struggle broughther mind to this sacrifice; she had pressed her hands firmly on herheart, so as not to hear how it wailed and wept. 

She went to Elizabeth, and said to her with a sweet smile: "To-dayI will bring your lover to you, princess. The king has fulfilled hispromise. He has to-day with his last dying strength signed this act, which gives you liberty to choose your husband, not from the ranks ofprinces alone, but to follow your own heart in your choice. I will givethis act to your lover, and assure him of my assistance and aid. Theking is suffering very much to-day, and his consciousness fails more andmore. But be certain, if he is in a condition to hear me, I will spendall my powers of persuasion in inclining him to your wish, and in movinghim to give his consent to your marriage with Earl Sudley. I now go toreceive the earl. So tarry in your room, princess, for Seymour will sooncome to bring you the act. "

Whilst she thus spoke, it seemed to her as though her heart were piercedby red-hot daggers; as though a two-edged sword were cleaving herbreast. But Catharine had a strong and courageous soul. She had swornto herself to endure this torture to the end; and she endured it. Nowrithing of her lips, no sigh, no outcry, betrayed the pain that she wassuffering. And if, indeed, her cheeks were pale, and her eye dim, theywere 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 shewas just going to present her love as a sacrifice, and to listen with asmile to the enthusiastic words of gratitude, of rapture and expectanthappiness 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 inattendance to summon to her the master of horse, Earl Sudley. Only shehad a feeling as though her heart was broken and crushed; and quitesoftly, quite humbly, she whispered: "I shall die when he is gone. Butso long as he is here, I will live; and he shall not have a suspicion ofwhat I suffer!"

And while Catharine suffered so dreadfully, Elizabeth was jubilant withdelight 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, howslow and sluggish crept those minutes along! How many eternities had shestill to wait before he would come--he, her lover, and soon her husband!Was he already with the queen? Could she expect him already? She stoodas if spellbound at the window, and looked down into the courtyard. Through that great gateway over there he must come; through that dooryonder he must go, in order to reach the queen's apartments. 

She uttered an exclamation, and a glowing blush flitted across herface. There, there, he was. Yonder drew up his equipage; his gold-lacedlackeys opened the door and he alighted. How handsome he was, and howmagnificent to look upon! How noble and proud his tall figure! Howregularly beautiful his fresh, youthful face! How saucy the haughtysmile about his mouth; and how his eyes flamed and flashed and shonein wantonness and youthful happiness. His look glanced for a moment atElizabeth's window. He saluted her, and then entered the door leading tothe wing of the palace of Whitehall occupied by the queen. Elizabeth'sheart beat so violently that she felt almost suffocated. Now he musthave reached the great staircase--now he was above it--now he wasentering the queen's apartments--he traverses the first, the second, thethird chamber. In the fourth Catharine was waiting for him. 

Elizabeth would have given a year of her life to hear what Catharinewould say to him, and what reply he would make to the surprisingintelligence--a year of her life to be able to see his rapture, hisastonishment, and his delight. He was so handsome when he smiled, sobewitching when his eyes blazed with love and pleasure. 

Elizabeth was a young, impulsive child. She had a feeling as if she mustsuffocate in the agony of expectation; her heart leaped into hermouth; her breath was stifled in her breast, she was so impatient forhappiness. 

"Oh, if he does not come soon I shall die!" murmured she. "Oh, if Icould 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, andI will do it. I have the key which the queen gave me, and which opensthe door that separates my rooms from hers. With that key I may reachher 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-chamberfrom the boudoir, I shall be able to see him, and hear everything thathe 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 victory she swung ithigh above her on her hand and cried, "I will see him!" Then light, joyful, and with beaming eye, she left the room. 

She had conjectured rightly. Catharine received the earl in her boudoir. She sat on the divan standing opposite the door which led into thereception-room. That door was open, and so Catharine had a perfect viewof the whole of that large space. She could see the earl as he traversedit. She could once more enjoy, with a rapture painfully sweet, his proudbeauty, and let her looks rest on him with love and adoration. But atlength he crossed the threshold of the boudoir; and now there was an endof 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 longerEarl Seymour's beloved, no longer his future and his happiness. 

She had courage to greet him with a smile; and her voice did not tremblewhen she bade him shut the door leading into the hall, and drop thehanging. He did so, gazing at her with looks of surprise. He did notcomprehend that she dared give him an interview; for the king was stillalive, and even with his tongue faltering in death he might destroy themboth. 

Why did she not wait till the morrow? On the morrow the king might bealready dead; and then they could see each other without constraint andwithout danger. Then was she his, and naught could longer stand inthe way between them and happiness. Now, when the king was near hisdeath--now he loved her only--he loved but Catharine. His ambition haddecided his heart. Death had become the judge over Seymour's doubleaffection and divided heart, and with King Henry's death Elizabeth'sstar had also paled. 

Catharine was the widow of a king; and without doubt this tender husbandhad appointed his young and adored wife Regent during the minorityof the Prince of Wales. Catharine then would have still five years ofunlimited sway, of royal authority and sovereign power. If Catharinewere his wife, then would he, Thomas Seymour, share this power; and thepurple robes of royalty, which rested on her shoulders, would coverhim also; and he would help her bear that crown which doubtless mightsometimes press heavily on her tender brow. He would, in reality, bethe regent, and Catharine would be so only in name. She, the Queen ofEngland, and he, king of this queen. What a proud, intoxicating thoughtwas that! And what plans, what hopes might not be twined with it! Fiveyears of sway--was not that a time long enough to undermine the throneof the royal boy and to sap his authority? Who could conjecture whetherthe people, once accustomed to the regency of the queen, might notprefer to remain under her sceptre, instead of committing themselves tothis feeble youth? The people must be constrained so to think, and tomake Catharine, Thomas Seymour's wife, their reigning queen. 

The king was sick unto death, and Catharine was, without doubt, theregent--perchance some day the sovereign queen. 

Princess Elizabeth was only a poor princess, entirely without a prospectof the throne; for before her came Catharine, came Edward, and finallyMary, Elizabeth's eldest sister. Elizabeth had not the least prospect ofthe throne, and Catharine the nearest and best founded. 

Thomas Seymour pondered this as he traversed the apartments of thequeen; and when he entered her presence, he had convinced himself thathe loved the queen only, and that it was she alone whom he had alwaysloved. Elizabeth was forgotten and despised. She had no prospect of thethrone--why, then, should he love her?

The queen, as we have said, ordered him to shut the door of the boudoirand to drop the hanging. At the same moment that he did this, thehanging of the opposite door, leading into the sleeping apartment, moved--perhaps only the draught of the closing door had done it. Neitherthe queen nor Seymour noticed it. They were both too much occupied withthemselves. They saw not how the hanging again and again gently shookand trembled. They saw not how it was gently opened a little in themiddle; nor did they see the sparkling eyes which suddenly peepedthrough the opening in the hanging; nor suspected they that it was thePrincess Elizabeth who had stepped behind the curtain, the better to seeand hear what was taking place in the boudoir. 

The queen had arisen and advanced a few steps to meet the earl. As shenow stood before him--as their eyes met, she felt her courage sink andher heart fail. 

She was compelled to look down at the floor to prevent him fromseeing the tears which involuntarily came into her eyes. With asilent salutation she offered him her hand. Thomas Seymour pressed itimpulsively to his lips, and looked with passionate tenderness into herface. She struggled to collect all her strength, that her heart mightnot betray itself. With a hurried movement she withdrew her hand fromhim, and took from the table a roll of paper containing the new act ofsuccession signed by the king. 

"My lord, " said she, "I have called you hither, because I would like tointrust a commission to you. I beg you to carry this parchment to thePrincess Elizabeth, and be pleased to deliver it to her. But before youdo that, I will make you acquainted with its contents. This parchmentcontains a new law relative to the succession, which has alreadyreceived the sanction of the king. By virtue of this, the royalprincesses are no longer under the necessity of uniting themselves witha husband who is a sovereign prince, if they wish to preserve theirhereditary claim on the throne unimpaired. The king gives the princessesthe right to follow their own hearts; and their claim to the successionis not to suffer thereby, if the husband chosen is neither a king nor aprince. That, my lord, is the contents of this parchment which you areto carry to the princess, and without doubt you will thank me for makingyou the messenger of these glad tidings. "

"And why, " asked he, in astonishment--"why does your majesty believethat this intelligence should fill me with special thankfulness?"

She collected all her powers; she prayed to her own heart for strengthand self-control. 

"Because the princess has made me the confidante of her love, andbecause I am consequently aware of the tender tie which binds you toher, " said she, gently; and she felt that all the blood had fled fromher cheeks. 

The earl looked into her face in mute astonishment. Then his inquiringand 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 Godalone is witness of our conversation. "

Elizabeth, who stood behind the hanging, felt her cheeks glowwith shame, and she began to repent what she had done. But she wasnevertheless, as it were, spellbound to that spot. It was certainly meanand unworthy of a princess to eavesdrop, but she was at that time buta young girl who loved, and who wanted to observe her lover. So shestayed; she laid her hand on her anxiously-throbbing heart, and murmuredto herself: "What will he say? What means this anxious dread that comesover me?"

"Well, " said Thomas Seymour, in an entirely altered tone, "if we arealone, then this mask which hides my face may fall; then the cuirasswhich binds my heart may be loosened. Hail, Catharine, my star and myhope! 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 thishour--for this hour, which at length again unites me to you. My God, itis an eternity since I have seen you, Catharine; and my heart thirstedfor you as a famishing man for a refreshing draught. Catharine, mybeloved, blessed be you, that you have at last called me to you!"

He opened his arms for her, but she repulsed him sharply. "You aremistaken in the name, earl, " said she, bitterly. "You say Catharine, andmean Elizabeth! It is the princess that you love: to Elizabeth belongsyour heart, and she has devoted her heart to you. Oh, earl, I will favorthis love, and be certain I will not cease from prayer and supplicationtill I have inclined the king to your wishes, till he has given hisconsent to your marriage with the Princess Elizabeth. "

Thomas Seymour laughed. "This is a masquerade, Catharine; and you stillwear a mask over your beautiful and charming face. Oh, away with thatmask, queen! I want to behold you as you are. I want to see again yourown beautiful self; I want to see the woman who belongs to me, and whohas sworn to be mine, and who has, with a thousand sacred oaths, vowedto love me, to be true to me, and to follow me as her husband and herlord. Or how, Catharine! Can you have forgotten your oath? Can you havebecome untrue to your own heart? Do you want to cast me away, and throwme, like a ball of which you are tired, to another?"

"Oh, " said she, quite unconsciously, "I--I can never forget and never beuntrue. "

"Well, then, my Catharine, the bride and wife of my future, what thenare you speaking to me of Elizabeth?--of this little princess, who sighsfor love as the flower-bud for the sun, and takes the first man whomshe finds in her way for the sun after which she pines? What care we forElizabeth, my Catharine? And what have we to do with that child in thishour of long-wished-for reunion?"

"Oh, he calls me a child!" murmured Elizabeth. "I am nothing but a childto him!" And she pressed her hands on her mouth in order to repress hercry of anger and anguish, and to prevent them from hearing her teeth, which were chattering 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 entreaty. "The hour has comewhich is finally to determine our destiny! The king is at the point ofdeath, and my Catharine will at length be free--free to follow her ownheart. At this hour I remind you of your oath! Do you rememberstill 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 lordof your future? Oh, my beloved, that crown which weighed down your headwill soon be taken away. Now I yet stand before you as your subject, butin a few hours it will be your lord and your husband that stands beforeyou; and he will ask: 'Catharine, my wife, have you kept with me thefaith you swore to me? Have you been guiltless of perjury in respectof your vows and your love? Have you preserved my honor, which is yourhonor also, clear from every spot; and can you, free from guilt, look mein the eye?"

He gazed at her with proud, flashing eyes, and before his commandinglook her firmness and her pride melted away like ice before thesunshine. Again he was the master, whose right it was to rule her heart;and she again the lowly handmaid, whose sweetest happiness it was tosubmit and bow to the will of her lover. 

"I can look you frankly in the eye, " murmured she, "and no guilt burdensmy conscience. I have loved naught but you, and my God only dwells nearyou in my heart. " Wholly overcome, wholly intoxicated with happiness, she leaned her head upon his shoulder, and as he clasped her in hisarms, as he covered with kisses her now unresisting lips, she felt onlythat she loved him unutterably, and that there was no happiness for herexcept with him. 

It was a sweet dream, a moment of most exquisite ecstasy. But it wasonly a moment. A hand was laid violently on her shoulder, a hoarse angryvoice called her name; and as she looked up, she encountered the wildglance of Elizabeth, who stood before her with deathly pale cheeks, with trembling lips, with expanded nostrils, and eyes darting flashes ofwrath 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 scoffingmouth spy out the secrets of my heart, in order to go away and betraythem to your paramour? That you might in his arms ridicule this pitiablemaiden, who allowed herself for the moment to be betrayed by her heart, and took a felon for an honorable man! Woe, woe to you, Catharine, forI 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 awaythe hand which Catharine laid on her shoulder, and sprang back from thetouch of her enemy like an irritated lioness. 

Her father's blood fumed and raged within her, and, a true daughterof Henry the Eighth, she concealed in her heart only bloodthirsty andrevengeful thoughts. 

She cast on Thomas Seymour a look of dark wrath, and a contemptuoussmile played about her lips. "My lord, " said she, "you have called mea child who allows herself to be easily deceived, because she longs somuch for the sun and for happiness. You are right: I was a child; andI was foolish enough to take a miserable liar for a noble-man, who wasworthy 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 nowawoke from it; and you have matured the child into a woman, wholaughs at the folly of her youth, and despises to-day what sheadored yesterday. I have nothing to do with you; and you are even tooinsignificant and too contemptible for my anger. But I tell you, youhave played a hazardous game, and you will lose. You courted a queenand a princess, and you will gain neither of them: not the one, for shedespises you; not the other, for she ascends the scaffold!"

With a wild laugh she was hurrying to the door, but Catharine with astrong hand held her back and compelled her to remain. "What are yougoing to do?" asked she, with perfect calmness and composure. 

"What am I going to do?" asked Elizabeth, her eyes flashing like thoseof a lioness. "You ask me what I will do? I will go to my father, andtell him what I have here witnessed! He will listen to me; and histongue will still have strength enough to pronounce your sentence ofdeath! Oh, my mother died on the scaffold, and yet she was innocent. Wewill see, forsooth, whether you will escape the scaffold--you, who areguilty!"

"Well, then, go to your father, " said Catharine; "go and accuse me. Butfirst 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 hadcrushed my happiness and my future. But I was not angry with you. Iunderstood you heart, for Thomas Seymour is worthy of being loved. But you are right; for the king's wife it was a sinful love, howeverinnocent and pure I may have been. On that account I wanted to renounceit; on that account I wanted, on the first confession from you, to silently sacrifice myself. You yourself have now made it animpossibility. Go, then, and accuse us to your father, and fear not thatI will belie my heart. Now, that the crisis has come, it shall find meprepared; and on the scaffold I will still account myself blest, forThomas Seymour loves me!"

"Ay, he loves you, Catharine!" cried he, completely overcome andenchanted by her noble, majestic bearing. 

"He loves you so warmly and ardently, that death with you seems to himan enviable lot; and he would not exchange it for any throne nor for anycrown. "

And as he thus spoke, he put his arms around Catharine's neck, andimpetuously drew her to his heart. 

Elizabeth uttered a fierce scream, and sprang to the door. But whatnoise was that which all at once drew nigh; which suddenly, like a wildbillow, came roaring on, and filled the anterooms and the halls?What were these affrighted, shrieking voices calling? What were theyscreaming to the queen, and the physicians, and the priest?

Elizabeth stopped amazed, and listened. Thomas Seymour and Catharine, arm linked in arm, stood near her. They scarcely heard what was takingplace; they looked at each other and smiled, and dreamed of love anddeath and an eternity of happiness. 

Now the door flew open; there was seen John Heywood's pale face: therewere the maids of honor and the court officials. And all shrieked andall wailed: "The king is dying! He is struck with apoplexy! The king isat the point of death!"

"The king calls you! The king desires to die in the arms of his wife!"said John Heywood, and, as he quietly pushed Elizabeth aside and awayfrom the door as she was pressing violently forward, he added: "The kingwill see nobody but his wife and the priest; and he has authorized me tocall the queen!"

He opened the door; and through the lines of weeping and wailing courtofficials and servants, Catharine moved on, to go to the death-bed ofher royal husband. 

CHAPTER XXXVII. "LE ROI EST MORT--VIVE LA REINE!"

King Henry lay a-dying. That life full of sin, full of blood and crime, full of treachery and cunning, full of hypocrisy and sanctimoniouscruelty--that life was at last lived out. That hand, which had signedso many death-warrants, was now clutched in the throes of death. It hadstiffened at the very moment when the king was going to sign the Dukeof Norfolk's death-warrant. [Footnote: historical. The king's ownwords. --Leti, vol. I, p. 16. ] And the king was dying with the gnawingconsciousness that he had no longer the power to throttle that enemywhom he hated. The mighty king was now nothing more than a feeble, dying old man, who was no longer able to hold the pen and sign thisdeath-warrant for which he had so long hankered and hoped. Now it laybefore him, and he no longer had the power to use it. God, in His wisdomand His justice, had decreed against him the most grievous and horribleof punishments; He had left him his consciousness; He had not crippledhim 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 withgold--that was the king--a king whom agony of conscience did not permitto die, and who now shuddered and was horrified in view of death, towhich he had, with relentless cruelty, hunted so many of his subjects. 

Catharine and the Archbishop of Canterbury, the noble Cranmer, stoodat his bedside: and whilst in convulsive agony he grasped Catharine'shands, he listened to the devout prayers which Cranmer was saying overhim. 

Once he asked with mumbling tongue: "My lord, what kind of a world thenis that where those who condemn others to die, are condemned to diethemselves?"

And as the pious Cranmer, touched by the agonies and tortures ofconscience which he read in the king's looks, and full of pity for thedying tyrant, sought to comfort him, and spoke to him of the mercy ofGod 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 deathhad vanquished life. The king had closed his eyes to earth, to open themagain there above, as a guilt-laden sinner in the presence of God. 

For three days his death was kept a secret. They wanted first to haveeverything 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 showthem also at the same time the living king. And since they knew that thepeople would not weep for the dead, they were to rejoice for the living;since they would sing no funeral psalms, they were to let their hymns ofjoy resound. 

On the third day the gates of Whitehall were thrown open, and a gloomyfuneral train moved through the streets of London. In dead silence thepopulace saw borne past them the coffin of the king, before whom theyhad trembled so much, and for whom they now had not a word of mourningor of pity--no tears for the dead who for seven-and-thirty years hadbeen their king. 

They were bearing the coffin to Westminster Abbey to the splendidmonument which Wolsey had built there for his royal master. But the waywas long, and the panting horses with black housings, which drew thehearse, had often to stop and rest. And all of a sudden, as the carriagestood still on one of the large open squares, blood was seen to issuefrom the king's coffin. It streamed down in crimson currents and flowedover the stones of the streets. The people with a shudder stood aroundand saw the king's blood flowing, and thought how much blood he hadspilt on that same spot, for the coffin was standing on the square wherethe executions were wont to take place, and where the scaffolds wereerected and the stakes set. As the people stood gazing at the bloodwhich flowed from the king's coffin, two dogs sprang forth from thecrowd and, with greedy tongue, licked the blood of King Henry theEighth. But the people, shuddering and horror-stricken, fled in alldirections, and talked among themselves of the poor priest who a fewweeks before was executed here on this very spot, because he wouldnot recognize the king as the supreme lord of the Church and God'svicegerent; of that unfortunate man who cursed the king, and on thescaffold said: "May the dogs one day drink the blood of this king whohas shed so much innocent blood!" And now the curse of the dying manhad found its fulfilment, and the dogs had drunk the king's blood. [Footnote: Historical. --See Tytler, p. 481. ]

When the gloomy funeral train had left the palace of Whitehall, whenthe king's corpse no longer infected the halls with its awful stench ofcorruption, and the court was preparing to do homage to the boy Edwardas the new king, Thomas Seymour, Earl of Sudley, entered the room of theyoung royal widow. He came in a magnificent mourning suit, and his elderbrother, Edward Seymour, and Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, walkedby his side. 

With a blush and a sweet smile, Catharine bade them welcome. 

"Queen, " said Thomas Seymour with solemn air, "I come to-day to claimof you the fulfilment of your vow! Oh, do not cast down your eyes, norblush for shame. The noble archbishop knows your heart, and he knowsthat it is as pure as the heart of a maiden, and that an unchastethought has never sullied your pure soul. And my brother would not behere, had he not faith in and respect for a love which has preserveditself so faithful and constant amidst storms and dangers. I haveselected these two noble friends as my suitors, and in their presence Iwill ask you: 'Queen Catharine, the king is dead, and no fetters longerbind your heart; will you not give it me as my own? Will you accept meas your husband, and sacrifice for me your royal title and your exaltedposition?'"

With a bewitching smile she gave him her hand. "You well know, "whispered she, "that I sacrifice nothing for you, but receive from youall of happiness and love that I hope for. "

"Will you then, in the presence of these two friends, accept me as yourfuture husband, and plight me your vow of truth and love?"

Catharine trembled and cast down her eyes with the bashfulness of ayoung girl. "Alas!" whispered she, "do you not then see my mourningdress? Is it becoming to think of happiness, while the funerallamentations have scarcely died away?"

"Queen Catharine, " said Archbishop Cranmer, "let the dead bury theirdead! Life also has its rights; and man should not give up his claim onhappiness, for it is a most holy possession. You have endured muchand suffered much, queen, but your heart is pure and without guilt;therefore you may now, with a clear conscience, bid welcome to happinessalso. Do not delay about it. In God's name I have come to bless yourlove, and give to your happiness a holy consecration. "

"And I, " said Edward Seymour, "I have begged of my brother the honor ofbeing allowed to accompany him in order to say to your majesty that Iknow 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 wereonce my queen and I your subject. "

"But I, " cried Thomas Seymour, "I would not delay coming to you, inorder that I might show you that love only brings me to you, and that noother consideration could induce me. The king's will is not yet opened, and I know not its contents. But however it may determine with respectto all of us, it cannot diminish or increase my happiness in possessingyou. 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 comethis very day. "

Catharine extended her hand to him with a bewitching smile. "I havenever doubted of you, Seymour, " whispered she, "and never did I love youmore ardently than when I wanted to renounce you. "

She bowed her head on her lover's shoulder, and tears of purest joybedewed her cheeks. The Archbishop of Canterbury joined their hands, andblessed 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 gildedhall, in which King Henry's merry laughter and thundering voice of wrathhad so often resounded, were now read his last commands. The whole courtwas assembled, as it was wont to be for a joyous festival; andCatharine once more sat on the royal throne. But the dreaded tyrant, thebloodthirsty King Henry the Eighth, was no longer at her side; but thepoor pale boy, Edward, who had inherited from his father neither energynor genius, but only his thirst for blood and his canting hypocrisy. Athis side stood his sisters, the Princesses Mary and Elizabeth. Bothwere pale and of a sad countenance; but with both, it was not for theirfather that they were grieving. 

Mary, the bigoted Roman Catholic, saw with horror and bitter anguish thedays of adversity which were about to befall her church; for Edward wasa fanatical opponent of the Roman Catholic religion, and she knew thathe would shed the blood of the papists with relentless cruelty. On thisaccount it was that she mourned. 

But Elizabeth, that young girl of ardent heart--she thought neither ofher father nor of the dangers threatening the Church; she thought onlyof her love, she felt only that she had been deprived of a hope, of anillusion--that she had awoke from a sweet and enchanting dream to therude and barren reality. She had given up her first love, but her heartbled and the wound still smarted. 

The will was read. Elizabeth looked toward Thomas Seymour during thissolemn and portentous reading. She wanted to read in his countenancethe impression made on him by these grave words, so pregnant with thefuture; she wanted to search the depths of his soul, and to penetratethe secret thoughts of his heart. She saw how he turned pale when, notQueen Catharine, but his brother, Earl Hertford, was appointed regentduring Edward's minority; she saw the sinister, almost angry look whichhe 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 alsoobserved the look of Thomas Seymour, yet not like Elizabeth, with arejoicing, but with a sorrowful heart, and he dropped his head upon hisbreast and murmured: "Poor Catharine! He will hate her, and she will bevery unhappy. "

But she was still happy. Her eye beamed with pure delight when sheperceived that her lover was, by the king's will, appointed High Admiralof England and guardian of the young king. She thought not of herself, but only of him, of her lover; and it filled her with the proudestsatisfaction to see him invested with places of such high honor anddignity. 

Poor Catharine! Her eye did not see the sullen cloud which still restedon the brow of her beloved. She was so happy and so innocent, and solittle ambitious! For her this only was happiness, to be her lover's, tobe the wife of Thomas Seymour. 

And this happiness was to be hers. Thirty days after the death ofKing Henry the Eighth she became the wife of the high admiral, ThomasSeymour, Earl of Sudley. Archbishop Cranmer solemnized their union inthe chapel at Whitehall, and the lord protector, now Duke of Somerset, formerly Earl of Hertford, the brother of Thomas Seymour, was thewitness of this marriage, which was, however, still kept a secret, and of which there were to be no other witnesses. When, however, theyresorted to the chapel for the marriage, Princess Elizabeth came forwardto meet the queen, and offered her hand. 

It was the first time they had met since the dreadful day on which theyconfronted each other as enemies--the first time that they had againseen each other eye to eye. 

Elizabeth had wrung this sacrifice from her heart. Her proud soulrevolted at the thought that Thomas Seymour might imagine that she wasstill grieving for him, that she still loved him. She would show himthat her heart was entirely recovered from that first dream of heryouth--that she had not the least regret or pain. 

She accosted him with a haughty, cold smile, and presented Catharineher hand. "Queen, " said she, "you have so long been a kind and faithfulmother to me, that I may well once more claim the right of being yourdaughter. Let me, therefore, as your daughter, be present at the solemntransaction in which you are about to engage; and allow me to stand atyour side and pray for you, whilst the archbishop performs the sacredservice, and transforms the queen into the Countess of Sudley. May Godbless you, Catharine, and give you all the happiness that you deserve!"

And Princess Elizabeth knelt at Catharine's side, as the archbishopblest this new marriage tie. And while she prayed her eye again glidedover toward Thomas Seymour, who was standing there by his young wife. Catharine's countenance beamed with beauty and happiness, but uponThomas Seymour's brow still lay the cloud that had settled there on thatday when the king's will was opened--that will which did not make QueenCatharine regent, and which thereby destroyed Thomas Seymour's proud andambitious schemes. 

And that cloud remained on Thomas Seymour's brow. It sank down lower andstill lower. It soon overshadowed the happiness of Catharine's love, andawakened 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 chastesoul. She concealed from the world her pain and her grief, as bashfullyas she had once done her love. Nobody suspected what she suffered andhow she struggled with her crushed heart. 

She never complained; she saw bloom after bloom fall from her life; shesaw the smile disappear from her husband's countenance; she heard hisvoice, at first so tender, gradually harden to harsher tones; shefelt his heart growing colder and colder, and his love changing intoindifference, perhaps even into hate. 

She had devoted her whole heart to love, but she felt day by day, andhour by hour, that her husband's heart was cooling more and more. Shefelt, with dreadful heartrending certainty, she was his with all herlove. 

But he was no longer hers. 

And she tormented her heart to find out why he no longer loved her--whatshe had been guilty of, that he turned away from her. Seymour had notthe delicacy and magnanimity to conceal from her his inward thoughts;and at last she comprehended why he neglected her. 

He had hoped that Catharine would be Regent of England, that he thenwould be consort of the regent. Because it had not happened so his lovehad died. 

Catharine felt this, and she died of it. But not suddenly, not at once, did death release her from her sorrows and racking tortures. Six monthsshe had to suffer and struggle with them. After six months she died. 

Strange rumors were spread at her death; and John Heywood never passedby Earl Seymour without gazing at him with an angry look, and saying:"You have murdered the beautiful queen! Deny it, if you can!"

Thomas Seymour laughed, and did not consider it worth his whileto defend himself against the accusations of the fool. He laughed, notwithstanding he had not yet put off the mourning he wore forCatharine. 

In these mourning garments he ventured to approach the PrincessElizabeth, to swear to her his ardent love, and sue for her hand. ButElizabeth repelled him with coldness and haughty contempt; and, like thefool, the princess also said: "You have murdered Catharine! I cannot bethe wife of a murderer!"

And God's justice punished the murderer of the innocent and nobleCatharine; and scarcely three months after the death of his wife, thehigh 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 friendJohn Heywood, and he undertook with the greatest care an examination ofthe same. He found among her papers many leaves written by herself, manyverses and poems, which breathed forth the sorrowfulness of her spirit. Catharine herself had collected them into a book, and with her own handshe had given to the book this title: "Lamentations of a Sinner. "

Catharine had wept much as she penned these "Lamentations"; for in manyplaces the manuscript was illegible, and her tears had obliterated thecharacters. 

John Heywood kissed the spots where the traces of her tears remained, and whispered: "The sinner has by her suffering been glorified intoa saint; and these poems are the cross and the monument which she hasprepared for her own grave. I will set up this cross, that the good maytake comfort, and the wicked flee from it. " And he did so. He hadthe "Lamentations of a Sinner" printed; and this book was the fairestmonument of Catharine.