“Those whom I have already recommended to your majesty, the Duchess d'Alencon, or the Princess Renee,” replied Wolsey; “by a union with either of whom you would secure the cordial co-operation of Francis, and the interests of the see of Rome, which, in the event of a war with Spain, you may need.”
“No, Wolsey,” replied Henry, taking a hasty turn across the chamber; “no considerations of interests or security shall induce me to give up Anne. I love her too well for that. Let the lion Charles roar, the fox Francis snarl, and the hydra-headed Clement launch forth his flames, I will remain firm to my purpose. I will not play the hypocrite with you, whatever I may do with others. I cast off Catherine that I may wed Anne, because I cannot otherwise obtain her. And shall I now, when I have dared so much, and when the prize is within my grasp, abandon it?—Never! Threats, expostulations, entreaties are alike unavailing.”
“I grieve to hear it, my liege,” replied Wolsey, heaving a deep sigh. “It is an ill-omened union, and will bring woe to you, woe to your realm, and woe to the Catholic Church.”
“And woe to you also, false cardinal,” cried Anne Boleyn, throwing aside the arras, and stepping forward. “I have overheard what has passed; and from my heart of hearts I thank you, Henry, for the love you have displayed for me. But I here solemnly vow never to give my hand to you till Wolsey is dismissed from your counsels.”
“Anne!” exclaimed the king.
“My own enmity I could forego,” pursued Anne vehemently, “but I cannot forgive him his duplicity and perfidy towards you. He has just proffered you his splendid palace of Hampton, and his treasures; and wherefore?—I will tell you: because he feared they would be wrested from him. His jester had acquainted him with the discovery just made of the secret hoard, and he was therefore compelled to have recourse to this desperate move. But I was apprized of his intentions by Will Sommers, and have come in time to foil him.”
“By my faith, I believe you are right, sweetheart,” said the king.
“Go, tell your allies, Francis and Clement, that the king's love for me outweighs his fear of them,” cried Anne, laughing spitefully. “As for you, I regard you as nothing.”
“Vain woman, your pride will be abased,” rejoined Wolsey bitterly.
“Vain man, you are already abased,” replied Anne. “A few weeks ago I would have made terms with you. Now I am your mortal enemy, and will never rest till I have procured your downfall.”