“No one knows I am here,” replied the queen, “except two faithful attendants, who are vowed to secrecy; and I shall depart as I came.”
“I am glad you have taken these precautions,” replied Henry. “Now speak freely, but again I must bid you be brief.”
“I will be as brief as I can,” replied the queen; “but I pray you bear with me, Henry, if I unhappily weary you. I am full of misery and affliction, and never was daughter and wife of king wretched as I am. Pity me, Henry—pity me! But that I restrain myself, I should pour forth my soul in tears before you. Oh, Henry, after twenty years' duty and to be brought to this unspeakable shame—to be cast from you with dishonour—to be supplanted by another—it is terrible!”
“If you have only come here to utter reproaches, madam, I must put an end to the interview,” said Henry, frowning.
“I do not reproach you, Henry,” replied Catherine meekly, “I only wish to show you the depth and extent of my affection. I only implore you to do me right and justice—not to bring shame upon me to cover your own wrongful action. Have compassion upon the princess our daughter—spare her, if you will not spare me!”
“You sue in vain, Catherine,” replied Henry. “I lament your condition, but my eyes are fully opened to the sinful state in which I have so long lived, and I am resolved to abandon it.”
“An unworthy prevarication,” replied Catherine, “by which you seek to work my ruin, and accomplish your union with Anne Boleyn. And you will no doubt succeed; for what can I, a feeble woman, and a stranger in your country, do to prevent it? You will succeed, I say—you will divorce me and place her upon the throne. But mark my words, Henry, she will not long remain there.”
The king smiled bitterly
“She will bring dishonour upon you,” pursued Catherine. “The woman who has no regard for ties so sacred as those which bind us will not respect other obligations.”
“No more of this!” cried Henry. “You suffer your resentment to carry you too far.”