nt for it. A ribbon that you wear on your dress
makes him to whom you present it, proud and happy, and raises him high
above all others. Ponder it well, queen; I speak not for Earl Surrey's
sake; I am thinking more of yourself. If you have the courage, publicly
and in spite of the disgrace with which King Henry threatens the
Howards, to be nevertheless just to them, and to recognize _their_
merits as well as that of others--believe me, if you do that, the whole
of this powerful party, which is now hostile to you, will fall at your
feet overcome and conquered. You will at last become the all-powerful
and universally loved Queen of England; and, like the heretics, the
papists also will call you their mistress and protectress. Consider no
longer! Let your noble and generous heart prevail! Spiteful fortune has
prostrated Henry Howard in the dust. Extend him your hand, queen,
that he may rise again, and again stand there at your court, proud and
radiant as he always was. Henry Howard well deserves that you should be
gracious to him. Great and beaming like a star, he shines on high above
all men; and there is no one who can say that he himself is more prudent
or braver, wiser or more learned, noble or greater, than the noble, the
exalted Surrey. All England resounds with his fame. The women repeat
with enthusiasm his beautiful sonnets and love-songs; the learned are
proud to call him their equal, and the warriors speak with admiration of
his feats of arms. Be just, then, queen! You have so highly honored the
merit of valor; now, honor the merit of mind also! You have, in Seymour,
honored the warrior; now, in Howard, honor the poet and the man!"

"I will do it," said Catharine, as with a charming smile she looked into
Jane's glowing and enthusiastic countenance. "I will do it, Jane, but
upon one condition!"

"And this condition is--"

Catharine put her arm around Jane's neck, and drew her close to her
heart, "That you confess to me, that you love Henry Howard, whom you
know how to defend so enthusiastically and warmly."

Lady Jane gave a start, and for a moment leaned her head on the queen's
shoulder, exhausted.

"Well," asked she, "do you confess it? Will you acknowledge that your
proud, cold heart is obliged to declare itself overcome and conquered?"

"Yes, I confess it," cried Lady Jane, as with passionate vehemence she
threw herself at Catharine's feet. "Yes, I love him--I adore him. I know
it is a disdained and unha