young man, and his bold glance ran with an expression of
contempt over the whole assembly--"yet, I saw at once who the condemned
must be, for I saw this young maiden forsaken by all as if stricken
by the plague, standing alone in the midst of this exalted and brave
company. And you well know, my noble king, that at court one recognizes
the condemned and those fallen into disgrace by this, that every one
flies from them, and nobody has the courage to touch such a leper even
with the tip of his finger!"
King Henry smiled. "Thomas Seymour, Earl of Sudley, you are now, as
ever, imprudent and hasty," said he. "You beg for mercy without once
knowing whether she for whom you beg it is worthy of mercy."
"But I see that she is a woman," said the intrepid young earl. "And a
woman is always worthy of mercy, and it becomes every knight to come
forward as her defender, were it but to pay homage to her sex, so fair
and so frail, and yet so noble and mighty. Therefore I beg mercy for
this young maiden!"
Catharine had listened to the young earl with throbbing heart and
flushed cheeks. It was the first time that she had seen him, and yet she
felt for him a warm sympathy, an almost tender anxiety.
"He will plunge himself into ruin," murmured she; "he will not save
Anne, but will make himself unhappy. My God, my God, have a little
compassion and pity on my anguish!"
She now fixed her anxious gaze on the king, firmly resolved to rush
to the help of the earl, who had so nobly and magnanimously interested
himself in an innocent woman, should the wrath of her husband threaten
him also. But, to her surprise, Henry's face was perfectly serene and
contented.
Like the wild beast, that, following its instinct, seeks its bloody prey
only so long as it is hungry, so King Henry felt satiated for the day.
Yonder glared the fires about the stake, at which four heretics were
burned; there stood the scaffold on which the Countess of Somerset had
just been executed; and now, within this hour, he had already found
another new victim for death. Moreover, Thomas Seymour had always been
his favorite. His audacity, his liveliness, his energy, had always
inspired the king with respect; and then, again, he so much resembled
his sister, the beautiful Jane Seymour, Henry's third wife.
"I cannot grant you this favor, Thomas," said the king. "Justice must
not be hindered in her course, and where she has passed sentence, mercy
must not give her the li
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