“I trust you will be able to prove yourself so, madam,” said Suffolk. “Sir Henry Norris, your person is likewise attached.”
“Then I am lost indeed!” exclaimed Anne distractedly.
“Do not let these false and malignant accusations alarm you, madam,” said Norri. “You have nothing to fear. I will die protesting your innocence.”
“Sir Henry Norris,” said the duke coldly, “your own imprudence has brought about this sad result.”
“I feel it,” replied Norris; “and I deserve the worst punishment that can be inflicted upon me for it. But I declare to you as I will declare upon the rack, if I am placed upon it—that the queen is wholly innocent. Let her not suffer for my fault.”
“You hear what Sir Henry says,” cried Anne; “and I call upon you to recollect the testimony he has borne.”
“I shall not fail to do so, madam,” replied Suffolk. “Your majesty will have strict justice.”
“Justice!” echoed Anne, with a laugh of bitter incredulity. “Justice from Henry the Eighth?”
“Beseech you, madam, do not destroy yourself,” said Norris, prostrating himself before her. “Recollect by whom you are surrounded. My folly and madness have brought you into this strait, and I sincerely implore your pardon for it.”
“You are not to blame, Norris,” said Anne; “it is fate, not you, that has destroyed me. The hand that has dealt this blow is that of a queen within the tomb.”