“None, Sire,” she replied. “I am quite happy in the life I lead with the good Cardinal, and only pray it may continue.”
“But you still maintain your heretical opinions?” said the King.
“Firmly as ever, Sire.”
“And does not this awful ceremonial shake you?”
“On the contrary, it strengthens my convictions.”
“All heretics are alike—all obstinate and contumacious,” muttered Philip. “Constance, you cannot go back to the Cardinal. He is much too lenient to you. I shall deliver you to Bishop Bonner, who will treat you very differently.”
“Oh! Sire, do not deliver me to that cruel man. Let me go back to the good Cardinal, who has been as a father to me. Have compassion upon me.”
“You have no compassion upon me, Constance,” rejoined Philip. “You care not for my sufferings. Relent towards me, and I will be less rigorous towards you.”
“It cannot be, Sire,” she rejoined.
“Be not hasty. Reflect. If I consign you to Bonner, your fate is certain. After the execution, the sight of which I will spare you, I will return for your answer. A guard will be placed at the door to prevent your exit, but no one shall disturb you. Again, I say, reflect. On your own decision hangs your fate.”