ill you induce the king to withdraw this hated clause? If
you do it not, queen, I swear to you, by the soul of my mother, that I
will not submit to this law; that I will solemnly, before all the world,
renounce the privilege that is offered me; that I--"

"You are a dear, foolish child," interrupted Catharine--"a child, that
in youthful presumption might dare wish to fetch the lightnings down
from heaven, and borrow from Jupiter his thunderbolt. Oh, you are still
too young and inexperienced to know that fate regards not our murmurs
and our sighs, and, despite our reluctance and our refusal, still leads
us in its own ways, not our own. You will have to learn that yet, poor
child!"

"But I will not!" cried Elizabeth, stamping on the floor with all the
pettishness of a child. "I will not ever and eternally be the victim
of another's will; and fate itself shall not have power to make me its
slave!"

"Well, we will see now," said Catharine, smiling. "We will try this
time, at least, to contend against fate; and I will assist you if I
can."

"And I will love you for it as my mother and my sister at once," cried
Elizabeth, as with ardor she threw herself into Catharine's arms. "Yes,
I will love you for it; and I will pray God that He may one day give
me the opportunity to show my gratitude, and to reward you for your
magnanimity and goodness."

CHAPTER XXVIII. INTRIGUES.

For a few days past the king's gout had grown worse, and, to his wrath
and grief, it confined him as a prisoner to his rolling chair.

The king was, therefore, very naturally gloomy and dejected, and hurled
the lightnings of his wrath on all those who enjoyed the melancholy
prerogative of being in his presence. His pains, instead of softening
his disposition, seemed only to heighten still more his natural
ferocity; and often might be heard through the palace of Whitehall the
king's angry growl, and his loud, thundering invectives, which no longer
spared any one, nor showed respect for any rank or dignity.

Earl Douglas, Gardiner, and Wriothesley very well knew how to take
advantage of this wrathful humor of the king for their purposes, and
to afford the cruel monarch, tortured with pain, one satisfaction at
least--the satisfaction of making others suffer also.

Never had there been seen in England so many burnt at the stake as
in those days of the king's sickness; never had the prisons been so
crowded; never had so much blood flowed as King