Take heed to yourself, therefore, Kate, take heed to yourself. You behold in me the avenger of God, and the judge of men. The king wears the crimson, not because it is beautiful and glossy, but because it is red like blood, and because it is the king's highest prerogative to shed the blood of his delinquent subjects, and thereby expiate human crime. Thus only do I conceive of royalty, and thus only will I carry it out till the end of my days. Not the right to pardon, but the right to punish, is that whereby the ruler manifests himself before the lower classes of mankind. God's thunder should be on his lips, and the king's wrath should descend like lightning on the head of the guilty.""But God is not only wrathful, but also merciful and forgiving,"said Catharine, as she lightly and shyly leaned her head on the king's shoulder.
"Just that is the prerogative of God above kings; that He can, as it pleases Him, show mercy and grace, where we can only condemn and punish. There must be something in which God is superior to kings, and greater than they. But how, Kate, you tremble, and the lovely smile has vanished from your countenance! Be not afraid of me, Kate!
Be always frank with me, and without deceit; then I shall always love you, and iniquity will then have no power over you. And now, Kate, tell me, and explain to me. You do not know that you love me?""No, I do not know, your majesty. And how should I be able to recognize, and know, and designate by name what is strange to me, and what I have never before felt?""How, you have never loved, Kate?" asked the king with a joyful expression.
"Never. My father maltreated me, so that I could feel for him nothing but dread and terror.""And your husband, child? That man who was my predecessor in the possession of you. Did you not love your husband either?""My husband?" asked she abstractedly. "It is true, my father sold me to Lord Neville, and as the priest had joined our hands, men called him my husband. But he very well knew that I did not love him, nor did he require my love. He needed a nurse, not a wife. He had given me his name as a father gives his to a daughter; and I was his daughter, a true, faithful, and obedient daughter, who joyfully fulfilled her duty and tended him till his death.""And after his death, child? Years have elapsed since then, Kate.
Tell me, and I conjure you, tell me the truth, the simple, plain truth! After the death of your husband, then even, did you never love?"He gazed with visible anxiety, with breathless expectation, deep into her eyes; but she did not drop them.
"Sire," said she, with a charming smile, "till a few weeks past, Ihave often mourned over myself; and it seemed to me that I must, in the desperation of my singular and cold nature, lay open my breast, in order to search there for the heart, which, senseless and cold, had never betrayed its existence by its stronger beating. Oh, sire, I was full of trouble about myself; and in my foolish rashness, Iaccused Heaven of having robbed me of the noblest feeling and the fairest privilege of any woman--the capacity of loving.""Till the past few weeks, did you say, Kate?" asked the king, breathless with emotion.
"Yes, sire, until the day on which you, for the first time, graciously afforded me the happiness of speaking with me."The king uttered a low cry, and drew Catharine, with impetuous vehemence, into his arms.
"And since, tell me now, you dear little dove, since then, does your heart throb?""Yes, sire, it throbs, oh, it often throbs to bursting! When I hear your voice, when I behold your countenance, it is as if a cold tremor rilled through my whole being, and drove all my blood to the heart. It is as though my heart anticipated your approach before my eyes discern you. For even before you draw near me, I feel a peculiar trembling of the heart, and the breath is stifled in my bosom; then I always know that you are coming, and that your presence will relieve this peculiar tension of my being. When you are not by me I think of you, and when I sleep I dream of you. Tell me, sire, you who know every thing, tell me, know you now whether Ilove you?""Yes, yes, you love me," cried Henry, to whom this strange and joyous surprise had imparted youthful vivacity and warmth. "Yes, Kate, you love me; and if I may trust your dear confession, I am your first love. Repeat it yet again; you were nothing but a daughter to Lord Neville?""Nothing more, sire!""And after him have you had no love?"
"None, sire!"
"And can it be that so happy a marvel has come to pass? and that Ihave made, not a widow, but a young maiden, my queen?"As he now gazed at her with warm, passionate, tender looks, Catharine cast down her eyes, and a deep blush covered her sweet face.
"Ah, a woman's bashful blushes, what an exquisite sight!" cried the king, and while he wildly pressed Catharine to his bosom, he continued: "Oh, are we not foolish and short-sighted men, all of us, yes, even we kings? In order that I might not be, perhaps, forced to send my sixth wife also to the scaffold, I chose, in trembling dread of the deceitfulness of your sex, a widow for my queen, and this widow with a blessed confession, mocks at the new law of the wise Parliament, and makes good to me what she never promised."[Footnote: After Catharine Howard's infidelity and incontinency had been proved, and she had atoned for them by her death, Parliament enacted a law "that if the king or his successors should intend to marry any woman whom they took to be a clean and pure maid--if she, not being so, did not declare the same to the king, it should be high treason: and all who knew it; and did not reveal it, were guilty of misprision of treason."--"Burnet's History of the Reformation of the Church of England." London, 1681 (vol. i, p.
313)]
