"
Catharine uttered a cry, and with passionate vehemence drew him back
to the place where she had been resting.
"If you do what you say, you will kill me," said she, with trembling
lips. "Hear me, hear! The moment you mount your horse to go to the
king, I mount mine too; but not to follow you, not to return to
London, but to plunge with my horse down yonder precipice. Oh, fear
nothing; they will not accuse you of my murder. They will say that I
plunged down there with my horse, and that the raging animal caused
my death."
"Queen, take good heed, consider well what you say!" exclaimed
Thomas Seymour, his countenance clearing up and his face flaming
with delight. "Bear in mind that your words must be either a
condemnation or an avowal. I wish death, or your love! Not the love
of a queen, who thinks to be gracious to her subject, when for the
moment she elevates him to herself; but the love of a woman who bows
her head in meekness and receives her lover as at the same time her
lord. Oh, Catharine, be well on your guard! If you come to me with
the pride of a queen, if there be even one thought in you which
tells you that you are bestowing a favor on a subject as you take
him to your heart, then be silent and let me go hence. I am proud,
and as nobly born as yourself, and however love throws me conquered
at your feet, yet it shall not bow my head in the dust! But if you
say that you love me, Catharine, for that I will consecrate my whole
life to you.
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