The scene in which the queen attempts to regain the king’s affections, by sending his mind back to the period of their early love, is very touching and beautiful; and until that sly witch, Jane Seymour, appears, the reader almost believes that the crowned disciple of lust is capable of fidelity to a sentiment. We give a few passages:
O, Henry, you have changed
From that true Henry who, in bygone days,
Rode, with the hurry of a northern gale,
Towards Hever’s heights, and ere the park was gained,
Made the glad air a messenger of love,
By many a blast upon your hunting-horn.
Have you forgotten that old oaken room,
Fearful with portraits of my buried race,
Where I received you panting from your horse;