es, Henry's divorced wife. But
the work occupied only her fingers, not her thoughts.

She threw it aside and seized her books. She took Petrarch's Sonnets;
and his love plaints and griefs enchained and stirred her own love-sick
heart.

With streaming tears, and yet smiling and full of sweet melancholy,
Elizabeth read these noble and tender poems. It appeared to her as if
Petrarch had only said what she herself so warmly felt. There were her
thoughts, her griefs. He had said them in his language; she must now
repeat them in her own. She seated herself, and with hands trembling
with enthusiasm, fluttering breath, perfectly excited and glowing,
in glad haste she began a translation of Petrarch's first sonnet.
[Footnote: Elizabeth, who even as a girl of twelve years old spoke four
languages, was very fond of composing verses, and of translating the
poems of foreign authors. But she kept her skill in this respect very
secret, and was always very angry if any one by chance saw one of
her poems. After her death there were found among her papers many
translations, especially of Petrarch's Sonnets, which were the work of
her earliest youth.--Leti, vol. i, p. 150.] A loud knock interrupted
her; and in the hastily opened door now appeared the lovely form of the
queen.

"The queen!" exclaimed Elizabeth with delight. "Have you come to me at
such an early morning hour?"

"And should I wait till evening to wish my Elizabeth happiness on her
festival? Should I first let the sun go down on this day, which gave
to England so noble and so fair a princess?" asked Catharine. "Or you
thought, perhaps, I did not know that this was your birthday, and that
to-day my Elizabeth advances from the years of childhood, as a proud
maiden full of hope?"

"Full of hope?" said Elizabeth, sadly. "Anne Boleyn's daughter has no
hopes: and when you speak of my birthday, you remind me at the same time
of my despised birth!"

"It shall be despised no longer!" said Catharine, and, as she put
her arm tenderly around Elizabeth's neck, she handed her a roll of
parchment.

"Take that, Elizabeth; and may this paper be to you the promise of a
joyful and brilliant future! At my request, the king has made this law,
and he therefore granted me the pleasure of bringing it to you."

Elizabeth opened the parchment and read, and a radiant expression
overspread her countenance.

"Acknowledged! I am acknowledged!" cried she. "The disgrace of my birth
is taken awa