The Constable of the Tower by W. Harrison Ainsworth

“Why with an ill grace from mine?” cried Elizabeth. “Methinks no one hath greater right than myself to reproach King Henry’s widow, who, forgetful alike of decency and duty, seeks to dishonor his memory—so far as dishonor can attach to a memory so glorious—by a marriage with another ere yet her royal husband’s body is laid in the tomb.”

“Princess!” interposed Seymour, “you mistake.”

“What makes her majesty here, if she be not brought by jealousy?” cried Elizabeth. “No, I do not mistake, When her grace and I met yesterday, I felt I had a rival. Let her deny it if she can.”

“I shall not attempt to deny it,” replied Catherine, with dignity. “I have been deeply, basely deceived, and bitterly do I grieve that I listened to the voice of the tempter. But my present sufferings may serve to expiate my error, great though it be. May you, Elizabeth, never feel the humiliation, the self-reproach, the anguish I now experience! I will not attempt to palliate my conduct, but I may say that throughout this kingdom more miserable wife did not, and could not, exist than the unfortunate Catherine Parr, the envied consort of your father, King Henry. Evil was the hour that, dazzled by the splendor of a crown, and confident in my own firmness of principle, I consented to become his spouse! Since that fatal moment I have known little peace. Anxiously as I studied my fickle husband’s lightest humors, I found it scarcely possible to please him, and to anger him would have insured my destruction. Surrounded by enemies, I was constantly exposed to’ secret machinations, and with difficulty escaped them, because the king ever lent ready credence to charges brought against me. Mine was a wretched existence—so wretched that, though clothed with the semblance of power, I would gladly have exchanged lots with the meanest of my subjects. No love could outlast such usage. Terror trampled out the embers of expiring affection. I never approached my terrible husband but with constraint and dread, uncertain whether I might not quit him for the scaffold. What wonder, after well-nigh four years of such misery, when the days of my suffering drew towards a close, I should not be wholly insensible to the attentions of one who seemed to pity me, and feigned to adore me? What wonder, when death at last released me from tyranny almost insupportable, I should have forgotten that I was the widow of a great king, but a cruel husband, and ere he, who had more than once menaced me with death, and had even ordered the warrant for my execution, was laid in the grave, should have half-promised my hand to him who had sworn to efface my previous sufferings by a life of devotion? What wonder I should be beguiled by Sir Thomas Seymour, who hath the glozing tongue of the serpent, and who is as fair-spoken and specious as he is perfidious? No epithet is strong enough to express the scorn I hold him in. My conduct may not be wholly free from censure, and some, as you have done, Elizabeth, may call it indecorous. But what respect do I owe to the memory of one who could treat me as your royal father treated me? Levity was never laid to my charge, and I was ever faithful and obedient and conformable to the king in all things. But all ties between us are now sundered. I owe him nothing—not even regret. I seek not to compare myself with the unhappy queens who have gone before me, but it ill becomes the daughter of Anne Boleyn to reproach Catherine Parr.”

“I pray your Majesty to pardon me for adding to your affliction,” said Elizabeth, “but I have been as basely deceived as yourself,” she added, with a disdainful glance at Seymour.

“Before your Highness condemns me, at least hear what I have to urge in my defence,” implored Sir Thomas, humbly.

But Elizabeth did not even bestow a look upon him. Turning towards Catherine, she said, “Your Majesty is right in your judgment of this man. He is subtle and perfidious as the serpent, but he is baser than that reptile. He has deceived us both. Let us make common cause against him, and crush him!”