our crimson lips. But
take care, my little duchess--take care, that this head does not fall
from your lips with your laughing, and roll down to the ground; for I
will not stop it--this head of the Earl of Surrey, of whom you say that
he is no traitor."

"But is it not monotonous and tiresome, if we accuse the father and son
of the same crime?" asked the duchess, laughing. "Let us have a little
variation. Let the duke be a traitor; the son, my king, is by far a
worse criminal!"

"Is there, then, a still worse and more execrable crime than to be a
traitor to his king and master, and to speak of the anointed of the Lord
without reverence and love?"

"Yes, your majesty, there is a still worse crime; and of that I accuse
the Earl of Surrey. He is an adulterer!"

"An adulterer!" repeated the king, with an expression of abhorrence.
"Yes, my lady, you are right; that is a more execrable and unnatural
crime, and we shall judge it strictly. For it shall not be said that
modesty and virtue found no protector in the king of this land, and that
he will not as a judge punish and crash all those who dare sin against
decency and morals. Oh, the Earl of Surrey is an adulterer, is he?"

"That is to say, sire, he dares with his sinful love to pursue a
virtuous and chaste wife. He dares to raise his wicked looks to a woman
who stands as high above him as the sun above mortals, and who, at least
by the greatness and high position of her husband, should be secure from
all impure desires and lustful wishes."

"Ah," cried the king, indignantly, "I see already whither that tends. It
is always the same accusation; and now I say, as you did just now, let
us have a little variation! The accusation I have already often heard;
but the proofs are always wanting."

"Sire, this time, it may be, we can give the proofs," said the duchess,
earnestly. "Would you know, my noble king, who the Geraldine is to whom
Henry Howard addresses his love-songs? Shall I tell you the real name
of this woman to whom, in the presence of your sacred person and of your
whole court, he uttered his passionate protestations of love and his
oath of eternal faithfulness? Well, now, this Geraldine--so adored, so
deified--is the queen!"

"That is not true!" cried the king, crimson with anger; and he clenched
his hands so firmly about the arms of his chair that it cracked. "That
is not true, my lady!"

"It is true!" said the duchess, haughtily and saucily. "It is true,