“Yes, I will tell you it now; for now there is no longer danger in knowing it. The name of him whom I love, queen, is Thomas Seymour.”
Catharine uttered a scream, and pushed Elizabeth passionately away from her heart. “Thomas Seymour?” cried she, in a menacing tone. “What! do you dare love Thomas Seymour?”
“And why should I not dare?” asked the young girl in astonishment. “Why should I not give him my heart, since, thanks to your intercession, I am no longer bound to choose a husband of equal birth? Is not Thomas Seymour one of the first of this land? Does not all England look on him with pride and tenderness? Does not every woman to whom he deigns a look, feel herself honored? Does not the king himself smile and feel more pleased at heart, when Thomas Seymour, that young, bold, and spirited hero, stands by his side?”
“You are right!” said Catharine, whose heart every one of these enthusiastic words, lacerated like the stab of a dagger—“yes, you are right. He is worthy of being loved by you—and you could hit upon no better choice. It was only the first surprise that made me see things otherwise than they are. Thomas Seymour is the brother of a queen: why then should he not also be the husband of a royal princess?”
With a bashful blush, Elizabeth hid her smiling face in Catharine’s bosom. She did not see with what an expression of alarm and agony the queen observed her; how her lips were convulsively compressed, and her cheeks covered with a death-like pallor.
“And he?” asked she, in a low tone. “Does Thomas Seymour love you?”
Elizabeth raised her head and looked at the questioner in amazement “How!” said she. “Is it possible, then, to love, if you are not loved?”
“You are right,” sighed Catharine. “One must be very humble and silly to be able to do that.”
“My God! how pale you are, queen!” cried Elizabeth, who just now noticed Catharine’s pale face. “Your features are distorted; your lips tremble. My God! what does this mean?”
“It is nothing!” said Catharine, with a smile full of agony. “The excitement and alarm of to-day have exhausted my strength. That is all. Besides, a new grief threatens us, of which you as yet know nothing. The king is ill. A sudden dizziness seized him, and made him fall almost lifeless at my side. I came to bring you the king’s message; now duty calls me to my husband’s sickbed. Farewell, Elizabeth.”