We will see, forsooth, whether you will escape the
scaffold--you, who are guilty!"
"Well, then, go to your father," said Catharine; "go and accuse me.
But first you shall hear me. This man whom I loved, I wanted to
renounce, in order to give him to you. By the confession of your
love, you had crushed my happiness and my future. But I was not
angry with you. I understood you heart, for Thomas Seymour is worthy
of being loved. But you are right; for the king's wife it was a
sinful love, however innocent and pure I may have been. On that
account I wanted to renounce it; on that account I wanted, on the
first confession from you, to silently sacrifice myself. You
yourself have now made it an impossibility. Go, then, and accuse us
to your father, and fear not that I will belie my heart. Now, that
the crisis has come, it shall find me prepared; and on the scaffold
I will still account myself blest, for Thomas Seymour loves me!"
"Ay, he loves you, Catharine!" cried he, completely overcome and
enchanted by her noble, majestic bearing.
"He loves you so warmly and ardently, that death with you seems to
him an enviable lot; and he would not exchange it for any throne nor
for any crown."
And as he thus spoke, he put his arms around Catharine's neck, and
impetuously drew her to his heart.
Elizabeth uttered a fierce scream, and sprang to the door. But what
noise was that which all at once drew nigh; which suddenly, like a
wild billow, came roaring on, and filled the anterooms and the
halls? What were these affrighted, shrieking voices calling? What
were they screaming to the queen, and the physicians, and the
priest?
Elizabeth stopped amazed, and listened.
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