VI.
What passed between Anne Boleyn and the Duke of Suffolk, and how Herne the Hunter appeared to her in the Oratory.
For some hours Anne Boleyn's attendants were alarmed for her reason,and there seemed good grounds for the apprehension, so wildly andincoherently did she talk, and so violently comport herself--she whowas usually so gentle now weeping as if her soul would pass away intears--now breaking into fearful hysterical laughter. It was a piteoussight, and deeply moved all who witnessed it. But towards eveningshe became calmer, and desired to be left by herself. Her wishbeing complied with, she fell upon her knees, and besought Heaven'sforgiveness for her manifold offences.
"May my earthly sufferings," she cried, "avail me here--after, andmay my blood wash out my guilt. I feel the enormity of my offence,and acknowledge the justice of my punishment. Pardon me, O injuredCatherine--pardon me, I implore thee! Thou seest in me the mostabject pitiable woman in the whole realm! Overthrown, neglected,despised--about to die a shameful death--what worse can befall me? Thineanguish was great, but it was never sharpened by remorse like mine. Oh!that I could live my life over again. I would resist all the dazzlingtemptations I have yielded to--above all, I would not injure thee. Oh!that I had resisted Henry's love--his false vows--his fatal lures!But it is useless to repine. I have acted wrongfully and must pay thepenalty of my crime. May my tears, my penitence, my blood operate as anatonement, and procure me pardon from the merciful Judge before whom Ishall shortly appear."
In such prayers and lamentations she passed more than an hour, when herattendants entered to inform her that the Duke of Suffolk and theLords Audley and Cromwell were without, and desired to see her. Sheimmediately went forth to them.
"We are come to acquaint you, madam," said Suffolk, "that you will beremoved at an early hour tomorrow morning, to the Tower, there to abideduring the king's pleasure."
"If the king will have it so, my lords," she replied, "I must needs go;but I protest my innocence, and will protest it to the last. I have everbeen a faithful and loyal consort to his highness, and though I may nothave demeaned myself to him so humbly and gratefully as I ought to havedone--seeing how much I owe him--yet I have lacked nothing in affectionand duty. I have had jealous fancies and suspicions of him, especiallyof late, and have troubled him with them; but I pray his forgiveness formy folly, which proceeded from too much regard, and if I am acquitted ofmy present charge, I will offend him so no more."
"We will report what you say to the king," rejoined Suffolk gravely;"but we are bound to add that his highness does not act on meresuspicion, the proofs of your guilt being strong against you."
"There can be no such proofs," cried Anne quickly. "Who are my accusers?and what do they state?"
"You are charged with conspiring against the king's life, anddishonouring his bed," replied Suffolk sternly. "Your accusers willappear in due season."
"They are base creatures suborned for the purpose!" cried Anne. "Noloyal person would so forswear himself."
"Time will show you who they are, madam," said Suffolk.
"But having now answered all your questions, I pray you permit us toretire."
"Shall I not see the king before I am taken to the Tower?" said Anne,upon whom the terror of her situation rushed with new force.
"His highness has quitted the castle," replied Suffolk, "and there is nolikelihood of his return to-night."
"You tell me so to deceive me," cried Anne. "Let me see him--let methrow myself at his feet! I can convince him of my innocence and movehim to compassion! Let me see him, I implore of you--I charge you!"
"I swear to you, madam, that the king has departed for Hampton Court,"replied Suffolk.
"Then take me to him there, under strong guard, or as secretly as youplease," she cried passionately; "I will return with you instantly, if Iam unsuccessful."
"Were I to comply with your request it would be fruitless, madam,"replied Suffolk; "the king would not see you."
"Oh, Suffolk!" cried Anne, prostrating herself before him, "I have shownyou many kindnesses in my season of power, and have always stood yourfriend with the king. Do me this favour now; I will never forget it.Introduce me to the king. I am sure I can move his heart, if I can onlysee him."
"It would cost me my head, madam," said the duke in an inexorable tone."Rise, I pray you."
"You are more cruel than the king," said Anne, obeying. "And now, mylords," she continued with more composure and dignity, "since you refusemy last request, and plainly prove to me the sort of justice I mayexpect, I will not detain you longer. I shall be ready to attend you tothe Tower tomorrow."
"The barge will proceed an hour before dawn," said Suffolk.
"Must I, then, go by water?" asked Anne.
"Such are the king's commands," replied Suffolk.
"It is no matter," she rejoined; "I shall be ready when you will, for Ishall not retire to rest during the night."
Upon this Suffolk and the others slowly withdrew, and Anne again retiredto the oratory.
She remained alone, brooding, in a state of indescribable anguish, uponthe probable fate awaiting her, when all at once, raising her eyes, shebeheld a tall dark figure near the arras.
Even in the gloom she recognised Herne the Hunter, and with difficultyrepressed a scream.
"Be silent!" cried Herne, with an emphatic gesture. "I am come todeliver you."
Anne could not repress a joyful cry.
"Not so loud," rejoined Herne, "or you will alarm your attendants. Iwill set you free on certain conditions."
"Ah! conditions!" exclaimed Anne, recoiling; "if they are such as willaffect my eternal welfare, I cannot accept them."
"You will repent it when it is too late," replied Herne. "Once removedto the Tower I can no longer aid you. My power extends only to theforest and the castle."
"Will you take me to the king at Hampton Court?" said Anne.
"It would be useless," replied Herne. "I will only do what I havestated. If you fly with me, you can never appear again as Anne Boleyn.Sir Henry Norris shall be set free at the same time, and you shall bothdwell with me in the forest. Come!"
"I cannot go," said Anne, holding back; "it were to fly to a worsedanger. I may save my soul now; but if I embrace your offer I am lostfor ever."
Herne laughed derisively.
"You need have no fear on that score," he said.
"I will not trust you," replied Anne. "I have yielded to temptationalready, and am now paying the penalty of it."
"You are clinging to the crown," said Herne, "because you know that bythis step you will irrecoverably lose it. And you fancy that some changemay yet operate to your advantage with the king. It is a vaindelusive hope. If you leave this castle for the Tower, you will perishignominiously on the block."
"What will be, must be!" replied Anne. "I will not save myself in theway you propose."
"Norris will say, and with reason, that you love him not," cried Herne.
"Then he will wrong me," replied Anne; "for I do love him. But of whataccount were a few years of fevered happiness compared with endlesstorture?"
"I will befriend you in spite of yourself," vociferated Herne, seizingher arm; "you shall go with me!"
"I will not," said Anne, falling on her knees. "Oh, Father of Mercy!"she cried energetically, "deliver me from this fiend!"
"Take your fate, then!" rejoined Herne, dashing her furiously backwards.
And when her attendants, alarmed by the sound, rushed into the chamber,they found her stretched on the floor in a state of insensibility.
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