ial of it. The course which he would have followed
if the second alternative had been accepted, may be conjectured from the
measures which, as I shall presently show, he was at this very moment
secretly pursuing. Henry, however, had happily resolved that he would be
trifled with no further; he felt instinctively that only action would cut
the net in which he was entangled; and he would not hesitate any longer to
take a step which, in one way or another, must bring the weary question to
a close. If the pope meant well, he would welcome a resolution which made
further procrastination impossible; if he did not mean well, he could not
be permitted to dally further with the interests of the English nation.
Within a few days, therefore, of Bonner's return from Bologna, he took the
final step from which there was no retreat, and "somewhere about St. Paul's
day,"[405] Anne Boleyn received the prize for which she had thirsted seven
long years, in the hand of the King of England. The ceremony was private.
No authentic details are known either of the scene of it or the
circumstances under which it took place; but it is said to have been
performed by the able Rowland Lee, Bishop of Lichfield, summoned up for the
purpose from the Welsh Marches, of which he was warden. It was done,
however--in one way or other finally done--the cast was thrown, and a match
was laid to the train which now at length could explode the spell of
intrigue, and set Henry and England free.

We have arrived at a point from which the issue of the labyrinth is clearly
visible. The course of it has been very dreary; and brought in contact as
we have been with so much which is painful, so much which is discreditable
to all parties concerned, we may perhaps have lost our sense of the broad
bearings of the question in indiscriminate disgust. It will be well,
therefore, to pause for a moment to recapitulate those features of the
story which are the main indications of its character, and may serve to
guide our judgment in the censure which we shall pass.

It may be admitted, or it ought to be admitted, that if Henry VIII. had
been contented to rest his demand for a divorce merely on the interests of
the kingdom, if he had forborne, while his request was pending, to affront
the princess who had for many years been his companion and his queen; if he
had shown her that respect which her high character gave her a right to
demand, and which her situation as a stranger ough