and impassioned defence, Anne was found
guilty; and having been required to lay aside her crown and the other
insignia of royalty, was condemned to be burned or beheaded at the
king's pleasure.

On the following day, she was summoned to the archiepiscopal palace at
Lambeth, whither she was privately conveyed; and her marriage with the
king was declared by Cranmer to be null and void, and to have always
been so. Death by the axe was the doom awarded to her by the king, and
the day appointed for the execution was Friday the 19th of May, at the
hour of noon.

Leaving the conduct of the fatal ceremony to the Duke of Suffolk, who
had orders to have a signal gun fired from the summit of the White
Tower, which was to be answered from various points, when all was over,
Henry repaired to Windsor Castle on the evening of Thursday. Before
this, he had formally offered his hand to Jane Seymour; and while the
unfortunate queen was languishing within the Tower, he was basking in
the smiles of his new mistress, and counting the hours till he could
make her his own. On the Tuesday before the execution, Jane Seymour
retired to her father's mansion, Wolff Hall, in Wiltshire, where
preparations were made for the marriage, which it was arranged should
take place there in private on the Saturday.

On arriving at the castle, Henry gave out that he should hunt on the
following morning in the great park, and retired to his closet. But he
did not long remain there, and putting on the garb of a yeoman of the
guard, descended by the narrow flight of steps (already mentioned as
occupying the same situation as the existing Hundred Steps) to the town,
and proceeded to the Garter, where he found several guests assembled,
discussing the affairs of the day, and Bryan Bowntance's strong ale
at the same time. Amongst the number were the Duke of Shoreditch,
Paddington, Hector Cutbeard, and Kit Coo. At the moment of the king's
entrance, they were talking of the approaching execution.

"Oh, the vanity of worldly greatness!" exclaimed Bryan, lifting up his
hands. "Only seven years ago, last Saint George's Day, this lovely queen
first entered the castle with the king, amid pomp and splendour and
power, and with a long life--apparently--of happiness before her. And
now she is condemned to die."

"But if she has played the king false she deserves her doom," replied
Shoreditch. "I would behead my own wife if she served me the same
trick--that is, if I coul