th, one of the justest.
Would they have sanctioned the match if it had been unlawful? Were they
destitute of good counsellors? Were they indifferent to the future?"

"You had better reserve these arguments for the legates' ears tomorrow,
madam," said Henry sternly.

"I shall urge them there with all the force I can," replied Catherine,
"for I will leave nought untried to hinder an event so fraught with
misery. But I feel the struggle will be hopeless."

"Then why make it?" rejoined Henry.

"Because it is due to you--to myself--to the princess our daughter--to
our illustrious progenitors--and to our people, to make it," replied
Catherine. "I should be unworthy to be your consort if I acted
otherwise--and I will never, in thought, word, or deed, do aught
derogatory to that title. You may divorce me, but I will never assent to
it; you may wed Anne Boleyn, but she will never be your lawful spouse;
and you may cast me from your palace, but I will never go willingly."

"I know you to be contumacious, madam," replied Henry. "And now, I pray
you, resume your mask, and withdraw. What I have said will convince you
that your stay is useless."

"I perceive it," replied Catherine. "Farewell, Henry--farewell, loved
husband of my heart--farewell for ever!"

"Your mask--your mask, madam!" cried Henry impatiently. "God's death!
footsteps are approaching. Lot no one enter here!" he cried aloud.

"I will come in," said Anne Boleyn, stepping into the chapel just as
Catherine had replaced her mask. "Ah! your majesty looks confused. I
fear I have interrupted some amorous conference."

"Come with me, Anne," said Henry, taking her arm, and trying to draw her
away--"come with me."

"Not till I learn who your lady--love is," replied Anne pettishly. "You
affect to be jealous of me, my liege, but I have much more reason to be
jealous of you. When you were last at Windsor, I heard you paid a
secret visit to a fair maiden near the lake in the park, and now you are
holding an interview with a masked dame here. Nay, I care not for your
gestures of silence. I will speak."

"You are distraught, sweetheart," cried the king. "Come away."

"No," replied Anne. "Lot this dame be dismissed."

"I shall not go at your bidding, minion!" cried Catherine fiercely.

"Ah!" cried Anne, starting, "whom have we here?"

"One you had better have avoided," whispered Henry.

"The queen!" exclaimed Anne, with a look of dismay.

"Ay, the queen!" echoed Ca