“If I loved you not, Sir Thomas, I should not be here,” she rejoined.
It was with difficulty that Seymour refrained from casting himself again at her feet.
“Never were syllables more grateful to mortal ear than those you have uttered, sweet princess,” he cried. “Repeat them! oh repeat them! I can scarce believe I have heard aright.”
“You make me feel I have said too much already, Sir Thomas. And yet I desire to deal frankly with you. ‘T is my nature to be candid.”
“I know it! I know it! Gladden me once more with those words, I beseech you! My heart thirsts for them.”
“Then, for the second time, I will own I love you, Sir Thomas. Will that suffice?”
“Oh! how shall I thank you for the happiness you confer upon me! What terms can I employ to express my admiration of your matchless beauty! What vows can I utter to attest my devotion! A life will not suffice to prove it—but my whole life shall be dedicated to you!”
“You would have me then believe that I am the sole object of your affections, Sir Thomas?” she said, looking searchingly at him.
“Can you for a moment doubt it, fair princess?” he rejoined. “No! my whole heart is given to you.”
“Perchance my suspicions may be unfounded, so I will try to dismiss them. Report speaks of you as a general admirer of our sex, Sir Thomas.”
“Report speaks falsely, as it ordinarily does, fair princess, if it would imply that I admire a beautiful woman more than I should a glorious picture or a nobly-sculptured statue. A lovely woman delights my eye, but only as a fair object to gaze upon.”
“Do you class the queen, my stepmother, among the fair women whom you merely gaze upon as you would at a picture or a statue, Sir Thomas?” demanded Elizabeth.
“Undoubtedly,” he replied. “Her majesty’s beauty excites no stronger feeling in me. But I cannot look upon you unmoved, fair princess.”
Something like a sigh at this moment reached the ears of the pair, but they did not heed it, supposing the aspiration to proceed from Mistress Ashley.
“Mistrust me not, I implore you, fair princess!” continued Seymour, anxious to dispel any doubts yet lingering in Elizabeth’s breast. “Queen Catherine’s gracious manner towards me has, perchance, called forth a fervent expression of gratitude on my part, which may have been mistaken for a warmer feeling. I say not that it is so, but such may be the case.”
“The queen persuades herself you love her—of that I am certain,” said Elizabeth. “Is she self-deceived, or deceived by you?”
“Certes, she is not deceived by me. But I cannot answer for any self-delusion practised by her highness.”
“Hist! what was that?” exclaimed Elizabeth. “Me-thought I heard a sigh.”
“Your governess must be much moved by the book she is reading,” observed Seymour. “‘T is the second sigh she has heaved. But now that you have received every possible assurance of my truth and constancy, keep me no longer, I beseech you, in suspense. Am I to leave this chamber blest with the consciousness that I may call you mine, or must I hide my head in despair?”
“I would not have you wholly despair, Sir Thomas. But you must be content to wait. I am too young to think of nuptials yet. Some years must elapse ere I can take a husband. But I love you now, and do not think I shall change my mind. That is all I can say.
“Princess!” he exclaimed.
“I am a daughter of Henry the Eighth,” continued Elizabeth, proudly, “and as such will do nothing unworthy of my great father, or of myself. Of all men I have ever beheld, you are the noblest-looking, Sir Thomas. To you, as I have already frankly confessed, my virgin heart hath been yielded. But to win my hand you must rise, for I will never wed with one inferior to myself in degree. Were you in your brother’s place—were you lord protector of the realm—I would not say ‘nay’ to your suit. But unless you can attain a position equally eminent, I must conquer the love I bear you.”