Henry was clasping the snowy fingers of his favourite, and gazing passionately at her, as the cardinal approached.
“Your majesty shall not detain my hand,” said Anne, “unless you swear to me, by your crown, that you will not again be jealous without cause.”
“I swear it,” replied Henry.
“Were your majesty as devoted to me as you would have me believe, you would soon bring this matter of the divorce to an issue,” said Anne.
“I would fain do so, sweetheart,” rejoined Henry; “but these cardinals perplex me sorely.”
“I am told by one who overheard him, that Wolsey has declared the divorce shall not be settled these two years,” said Anne; “in which case it had better not be settled at all; for I care not to avow I cannot brook so much delay. The warmth of my affection will grow icy cold by that time.”
“It were enough to try the patience of the most forbearing,” rejoined the king, smiling—“but it shall not be so—by this lily hand it shall not! And now, sweetheart, are we entirely reconciled?
“Not yet,” replied Anne. “I shall claim a boon from your majesty before I accord my entire forgiveness.”
“Name it,” said the king, still clasping her hand tenderly, and intoxicated by the witchery of her glance.
“I ask an important favour,” said Anne, “but as it is one which will benefit your majesty as much as myself, I have the less scruple in requesting it. I ask the dismissal of one who has abused your favour, who, by his extortion and rapacity, has in some degree alienated the affections of your subjects from you, and who solely opposes your divorce from Catherine of Arragon because he fears my influence may be prejudicial to him.”