"Spirit of my glorified mother," said she, solemnly, "I call thee!
Come to me! Overshadow me with thy smile, and bless me with thy
breath! Queen Anne of England, thy daughter is no longer a bastard,
and no one dares venture more to insult her. Thou wert with me when
I wept and suffered, my mother; and often in my disgrace and
humiliation, it was as if I heard thy voice, which whispered comfort
to me; as if I saw thy heavenly eyes, which poured peace and love
into my breast! Oh, abide with me now also, my mother--now, when my
disgrace is taken away, abide with me in my prosperity; and guard my
heart, that it may be kept pure from arrogance and pride, and remain
humble in its joy! Anne Boleyn, they laid thy beautiful, innocent
head upon the block; but this parchment sets upon it again the royal
crown; and woe, woe to those who will now still dare insult thy
memory!"
She sprang from her knees and rushed to the wall opposite, on which
was a large oil painting, which represented Elizabeth herself as a
child playing with a dog.
"Oh, mother, mother!" said she, "this picture was the last earthly
thing on which thy looks rested; and to these painted lips of thy
child thou gavest thy last kiss, which thy cruel hangman would not
allow to thy living child. Oh, let me sip up this last kiss from
that spot; let me touch with my mouth the spot that thy lips have
consecrated!"
She bent down and kissed the picture.
"And now come forth out of thy grave, my mother," said she,
solemnly.
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