The Constable of the Tower by W. Harrison Ainsworth

Extending his arms over his daughters, the king said somewhat feebly, but with great earnestness, “My blessing on ye both! and may it rest ever with ye—ever! Only to the great Ruler of events is known the destiny in store for you. Both of ye may be queens—and should it so chance, ye will learn what cares the crown brings with it. But think only—as I have ever done—of the welfare and glory of your kingdom, and of your own honor, and ye shall reign wisely and well.”

“Should it ever be my lot to reign, sire, I will essay to follow your glorious example,” said Mary.

“I shall never be queen,” sobbed Elizabeth, “and therefore I need make no promise.”

“How know you that, girl?” cried the king, angrily. “You are as likely to be queen as Mary. I want no promises. I have pointed out the way you ought to pursue, and if you be not a degenerate daughter, you will follow it.”

“I despair of emulating your greatness, O my father!” cried Elizabeth. “But if it shall please Providence to call upon me to rule, I will endeavor to rule well.”

“Enough!” replied Henry, appeased. “And now arise, both of ye, that I may look at you more nearly, for my sight waxes somewhat dim.”

Taking his elder daughter’s hand as she arose, Henry looked at her fixedly for a few minutes, during which he murmured, “Forgive me, Katherine, my first spouse, if I have ever dealt harshly with this thy daughter!” adding aloud, after a pause, “It is right you should both know it—and that all should know it—that by my will I have confirmed the succession of both of ye to the crown. Neither of ye may wed, save with the consent and approval of the council—such consent to be given under hand and seal. But on your marriage, each of ye shall have such sums of money as I have appointed, together with such jewels, plate, and household stuffs, as shall seem meet to those intrusted with the performance of my testaments. I have left ye both alike—alike in yearly income, while ye continue single—alike on marriage. Now, mark me, Mary,” he continued, sternly and authoritatively, “if you perform not the conditions required of you by my will, the crown will devolve on Elizabeth. And if Elizabeth shall neglect them,” he added, glancing at his younger child, “the crown will go to our well-beloved niece, Frances Brandon, daughter of our sister Mary and the Duke of Suffolk. Now both of you know our will and pleasure. Kiss me, Mary, and let thy sister come nigh me.”

Taking Elizabeth’s hand, who stood weeping before him, and earnestly perusing her features, the king seemed struggling with recollections that would force themselves upon him, for he muttered to himself, “Ay, ’tis the very face, the eye, the lip!—thus looked she when I chided her. In all things she is like her mother, save in the color of her hair. Anne, sweet Anne, how well do I recall thee with all thy winning ways! This fair child’s neck is like to thine; and yet—Would I could bring thee back again!”

As these words reached her ear, Elizabeth’s tears fell yet more freely, and she trembled as a deep groan burst from the king. But Henry quickly shook off these passing feelings of remorse, and said kindly but firmly, “Weep not, sweet child, thou wilt spoil thy pretty eyes else. Keep thy sorrow till thou hast lost me. Be discreet, girl. Thou art fair, and wilt be fairer. Grow in grace as thou growest in beauty. So shalt thou be truly loved and honored. Beauty without discretion bringeth death—thy mother found it so. Kiss me, and lay my counsel well to heart.”

Elizabeth, almost shudderingly, complied, and the king, feeling exhausted by the effort he had made, called for another cup of wine, and after draining the goblet deeply, asked for Prince Edward.

Meanwhile, the princesses had retired, and stationed themselves on the other side of the chamber, near the queen.

On learning his Majesty’s pleasure, the Earl of Hertford proceeded to the door from which the princesses had issued, and presently ushered in the youthful prince, conducting him ceremoniously towards the king. The prince was followed by Sir George Blagge and two other gentlemen.