Windsor Castle [90]
arrest old Tristram, and keep him in custody till I have leisure to examine him."
"It shall be done as you desire, my liege," replied Bouchier, bowing and departing.
Shortly after this Henry, accompanied by Anne Boleyn, proceeded with his attendants to Saint George's Chapel, and heard vespers performed. Just as he was about to return, an usher advanced towards him, and making a profound reverence, said that a masked dame, whose habiliments proclaimed her of the highest rank, craved a moment's audience of him.
"Where is she? "demanded Henry.
"In the north aisle, an't please your majesty," replied the usher, "near the Urswick Chapel. I told her that this was not the place for an audience of your majesty, nor the time; but she would not be said nay, and therefore, at the risk of incurring your sovereign displeasure, I have ventured to proffer her request."
The usher omitted to state that his chief inducement to incur the risk was a valuable ring, given him by the lady.
"Well, I will go to her," said the king. " I pray you, excuse me for a short space, fair mistress," he added to Anne Boleyn.
And quitting the choir, he entered the northern aisle, and casting his eyes down the line of noble columns by which it is flanked, and seeing no one, he concluded that the lady must have retired into the Urswick Chapel. And so it proved; for on reaching this exquisite little shrine he perceived a tall masked dame within it, clad in robes of the richest black velvet. As he entered the chapel, the lady advanced towards him, and throwing herself on her knees, removed her mask--disclosing features stamped with sorrow and suffering, but still retaining an expression of the greatest dignity. They were those of Catherine of Arragon.
Uttering an angry exclamation, Henry turned on his heel and would have left her, but she clung to the skirts of his robe.
"Hear me a moment, Henry--my king--my husband--one single moment-- hear me!" cried Catherine, in tones of such passionate anguish that he could not resist the appeal.
"Be brief, then, Kate," he rejoined, taking her hand to raise her.
"Blessings on you for the word! "cried the queen, covering his hand with kisses. "I am indeed your own true Kate - your faithful, loving, lawful wife!"
Rise, madam!" cried Henry coldly; "this posture beseems not Catherine of Arragon."
"I obey you now as I have ever done," she replied, rising; "though if I followed the prompting of my heart, I should not quit my knees till I had gained my suit."
"You have, done wrong in coming here, Catherine, at this juncture," said Henry, "and may compel me to some harsh measure which I would willingly have avoided."
"No one knows I am here," replied the queen, "except two faithful attendants, who are vowed to secrecy; and I shall depart as I came."
"I am glad you have taken these precautions," replied Henry. "Now speak freely, but again I must bid you be brief."
"I will be as brief as I can," replied the queen; "but I pray you bear with me, Henry, if I unhappily weary you. I am full of misery and affliction, and never was daughter and wife of king wretched as I am. Pity me, Henry--pity me! But that I restrain myself, I should pour forth my soul in tears before you. Oh, Henry, after twenty years' duty and to be brought to this unspeakable shame--to be cast from you with dishonour--to be supplanted by another--it is terrible!"
"If you have only come here to utter reproaches, madam, I must put an end to the interview," said Henry, frowning.
"I do not reproach you, Henry," replied Catherine meekly, "I only wish to show you the depth and extent of my affection. I only implore you to do me right and justice--not to bring shame upon me to cover your own wrongful action. Have compassion upon the princess our daughter-- spare her, if you will not spare me!"
"You sue in vain, Catherine," replied Henry. "I lament your condition, but my eyes are fully opened to the sinful state in which I have so long lived, and I am resolved to abandon it."
"An unworthy prevarication,"
"It shall be done as you desire, my liege," replied Bouchier, bowing and departing.
Shortly after this Henry, accompanied by Anne Boleyn, proceeded with his attendants to Saint George's Chapel, and heard vespers performed. Just as he was about to return, an usher advanced towards him, and making a profound reverence, said that a masked dame, whose habiliments proclaimed her of the highest rank, craved a moment's audience of him.
"Where is she? "demanded Henry.
"In the north aisle, an't please your majesty," replied the usher, "near the Urswick Chapel. I told her that this was not the place for an audience of your majesty, nor the time; but she would not be said nay, and therefore, at the risk of incurring your sovereign displeasure, I have ventured to proffer her request."
The usher omitted to state that his chief inducement to incur the risk was a valuable ring, given him by the lady.
"Well, I will go to her," said the king. " I pray you, excuse me for a short space, fair mistress," he added to Anne Boleyn.
And quitting the choir, he entered the northern aisle, and casting his eyes down the line of noble columns by which it is flanked, and seeing no one, he concluded that the lady must have retired into the Urswick Chapel. And so it proved; for on reaching this exquisite little shrine he perceived a tall masked dame within it, clad in robes of the richest black velvet. As he entered the chapel, the lady advanced towards him, and throwing herself on her knees, removed her mask--disclosing features stamped with sorrow and suffering, but still retaining an expression of the greatest dignity. They were those of Catherine of Arragon.
Uttering an angry exclamation, Henry turned on his heel and would have left her, but she clung to the skirts of his robe.
"Hear me a moment, Henry--my king--my husband--one single moment-- hear me!" cried Catherine, in tones of such passionate anguish that he could not resist the appeal.
"Be brief, then, Kate," he rejoined, taking her hand to raise her.
"Blessings on you for the word! "cried the queen, covering his hand with kisses. "I am indeed your own true Kate - your faithful, loving, lawful wife!"
Rise, madam!" cried Henry coldly; "this posture beseems not Catherine of Arragon."
"I obey you now as I have ever done," she replied, rising; "though if I followed the prompting of my heart, I should not quit my knees till I had gained my suit."
"You have, done wrong in coming here, Catherine, at this juncture," said Henry, "and may compel me to some harsh measure which I would willingly have avoided."
"No one knows I am here," replied the queen, "except two faithful attendants, who are vowed to secrecy; and I shall depart as I came."
"I am glad you have taken these precautions," replied Henry. "Now speak freely, but again I must bid you be brief."
"I will be as brief as I can," replied the queen; "but I pray you bear with me, Henry, if I unhappily weary you. I am full of misery and affliction, and never was daughter and wife of king wretched as I am. Pity me, Henry--pity me! But that I restrain myself, I should pour forth my soul in tears before you. Oh, Henry, after twenty years' duty and to be brought to this unspeakable shame--to be cast from you with dishonour--to be supplanted by another--it is terrible!"
"If you have only come here to utter reproaches, madam, I must put an end to the interview," said Henry, frowning.
"I do not reproach you, Henry," replied Catherine meekly, "I only wish to show you the depth and extent of my affection. I only implore you to do me right and justice--not to bring shame upon me to cover your own wrongful action. Have compassion upon the princess our daughter-- spare her, if you will not spare me!"
"You sue in vain, Catherine," replied Henry. "I lament your condition, but my eyes are fully opened to the sinful state in which I have so long lived, and I am resolved to abandon it."
"An unworthy prevarication,"