“Do but believe me, my husband, Bishop Gardiner alone was the cause of my fall. Because he was by, I did not want to lose. My pride revolted to think that this haughty and arrogant priest was to be witness of my defeat. In mind, I already saw the cold and contemptuous smile with which he would look down on me, the vanquished; and my heart rose in rebellion at the thought of being humbled before him. And now I have arrived at the second part of my fault which I want to confess to you to-day. Sire, I must acknowledge another great fault to you. I have grievously offended against you to-day, in that I contradicted you, and withstood your wise and pious words. Ah, my husband, it was not done to spite you, but only to vex and annoy the haughty priest. For I must confess to you, my king, I hate this Bishop of Winchester—ay, yet more—I have a dread of him; for my foreboding heart tells me that he is my enemy, that he is watching each of my looks, each of my words, so that he can make from them a noose to strangle me. He is the evil destiny that creeps up behind me and would one day certainly destroy me, if your beneficent hand and your almighty arm did not protect me.
“Oh, when I behold him, my husband, I would always gladly fly to your heart, and say to you: ‘Protect me, my king, and have compassion on me! Have faith in me and love me; for if you do not, I am lost! The evil fiend is there to destroy me.’”
And, as she thus spoke, she clung affectionately to the king’s side, and, leaning her head on his breast, looked up to him with a glance of tender entreaty and touching devotion.
The king bent down and kissed her brow. “Oh, sancta simplicitas,” softly murmured he—“she knows not how nigh she is to the truth, and how much reason she has for her evil forebodings!” Then he asked aloud: “So, Kate, you believe that Gardiner hates you?”
“I do not believe it, I know it!” said she. “He wounds me whenever he can; and though his wounds are made only with pins, that comes only from this, that he is afraid that you might discover it if he drew a dagger on me, whilst you might not notice the pin with which he secretly wounds me. And what was his coming here to-day other than a new assault on me? He knows very well—and I have never made a secret of it—that I am an enemy to this Roman Catholic religion the pope of which has dared to hurl his ban against my lord and husband; and that I seek with lively interest to be instructed as to the doctrine and religion of the so-called reformers.”
“They say that you are a heretic,” said the king, gravely.
“Gardiner says that! But if I am so, you are so too, my king; for your belief is mine. If I am so, so too is Cranmer, the noble Archbishop of Canterbury; for he is my spiritual adviser and helper. But Gardiner wishes that I were a heretic, and he wants me likewise to appear so to you. See, my husband, why it was that he laid those eight death-warrants before you awhile ago. There were eight, all heretics, whom you were to condemn—not a single papist among them; and yet I know that the prisons are full of papists, who, in the fanaticism of their persecuted faith, have spoken words just as worthy of punishment as those unfortunate ones whom you were to-day to send from life to death by a stroke of your pen. Sire, I should have prayed you just as fervently, just as suppliantly, had they been papists whom you were to sentence to death! But Gardiner wanted a proof of my heresy; and therefore he selected eight heretics, for whom I was to oppose your hard decree.”
“It is true,” said the king, thoughtfully; “there was not a single papist among them! But tell me, Kate—are you really a heretic, and an adversary of your king?”
With a sweet smile she looked deep into his eyes, and humbly crossed her arms over her beautiful breast.
“Your adversary!” whispered she. “Are you not my husband and my lord? Was not the woman made to be subject to the man? The man was created after the likeness of God, and the woman after the likeness of man. So the woman is only the man’s second self; and he must have compassion on her in love; and he must give her of his spirit, and influence her understanding from his understanding. Therefore your duty is to instruct me, my husband; and mine is, to learn of you. And of all the women in the world, to no one is this duty made so easy as to me; for God has been gracious to me and given me as my husband a king whose prudence, wisdom, and learning are the wonder of all the world.” [Footnote: The queen’s own words, as they have been given by all historical writers. See on this point Burnet, vol. I, p. 84; Tytler, p. 413; Larrey’s “Histoire d’Angleterre,” vol. II, p. 201; Leti, vol. I, p. 154, (death-sign) Historical. The king’s own words.] “What a sweet little flatterer you are, Kate!” said the king, with a smile; “and with what a charming voice you want to conceal the truth from us! The truth is, that you yourself are a very learned little body, who has no need at all to learn anything from others, but who would be well able to instruct others.”