another tie.

That freedom was his own to use. If he could marry Renée, he could marry Anne. And why, in such a matter, should he not consult the fancy of his eye, the feeling of his heart?

5. Henry at thirty-five was still a young man in the flower of life; tall, fair, and supple, with a roundness in his face and figure that relieved his height. All foreigners, Italians most of all, were struck by his personal beauty. "Henry," said Conaro the Venetian, "has a very handsome face, a nobly moulded figure. He is learned, grave, and wise, and is endowed with every fine accomplishment." These words were not for Henry's eye. A little later, Surian described him as "looking very grand and very handsome." No man in his court had such a presence. Moriano, six years later, goes still further in his praise. "As the ambassadors were speaking, I had nothing else to do than sit and feast my eyes on the King's physical beauty. Never in my days have I seen so fine a face; I will not say in princes, who are few in number, but in any class and kind of men. Never have I seen a man so handsome, elegant, and well proportioned, as this English King. Tall, agile, strong, with flesh all pink and white, graceful in his mien and in his walk, it seems to me that Nature, in creating such a prince, has done her utmost to present a model of manly beauty to these modern days."

6. To charms of person, which are never wholly lost on female eyes, were added many gifts of mind. Foremost amongst these gifts were his taste as a poet and his talent as a musician-things in which

Anne Boleyn had herself attained a high degree of excellence. Henry composed as well as played, and many of his happiest hours were spent with clavicorde and lute. His skill in music drew all lovers of the art to him, and every one who rose to fame desired to play before so fine a judge. Not many weeks had passed since Zuan da Leze, an accomplished organist, had come from Venice with a wonderful instrument, hoping to achieve his fortune. Henry heard him play, and tossed him twenty nobles, on which Da Leze, who had been expecting an appointment in the household, hung himself in a fit of wounded pride. As poetess and musician, Anne lay open to these intellectual spells.

7. She kept her royal suitor at a distance, not so much because she thought him another woman's husband, as because her heart was not yet freed from the remembrance of her lover. Not her father only, but the oldest and the wisest men about her -Warham and Wyat-held that Catharine was, in law and fact, the dowager Princess of Wales. The woman might be pitied, but her rank as Queen was tacitly denied. Like all her kindred, Anne believed the King was free. Reports of his approaching nuptials with Madame Renée were afloat. Such rumours caused Anne Boleyn no surprise; for she had heard such things discussed at Hever Castle and Howard House, as long ago as she could recollect any talk of men. If Henry turned his eyes from Madame Renée towards an English lady, he might do so free from blame. But Percy's image was not yet effaced, nor was her anger at their

separation spent. Her uncle and the Cardinal were still her enemies. Yet Henry, being a King, could not be driven away from Hever, like an ordinary man. He took advantage of his rank to keep her in his sight. At length he got from her a ring, and pressing it on his little finger said he would always wear it for her sake.

CHAPTER II.

May-day Dream.

1526.

I. A SECOND Court of Love was formed, though with a more imposing figure in the palmer's part. Percy was gone, with much repining, to his noble bride. Shrewsbury was cheating him about the lady's portion, and the bride and groom were sickening on their splendid hearth. Percy could not forget his love, nor Lady Mary that a rival owned his heart. Linked in a marriage without love, a man of many talents, and a woman of many virtues, were driving each other crazy with their mutual spite. Percy and his consort knew they had been sacrificed by Wolsey; and in the crowds who watched the Cardinal hastening to his fall, no eyes were glittering with a fiercer hate than those of Percy and his miserable wife. The Border chief was gone away-the majesty of England bore his palmer staff.

2. A greater and a lesser minstrel sang the lady's charms-her playmate Wyat and her brother George. Rivalry, so needful to the course of a poetic passion, set the muse of Wyat on her wing. The troubadour is slighted in his heart. The bard who loves so well and serves so faithfully:

"And dearly have I held also

The glory of thy name,"

is forgotten in the face of this new suitor for her smiles:

"Broken now are her behests,

And pleasant looks she gave."

The minstrel pines in thought, yet casts no blame on the dear object of his verse:

"I have no wrong where I can claim no right."

The very poverty of his pretension, as against this splendid rival, is paraded as a cause of his platonic woes:

"I am all comfortless,

Since I of blame no cause can well express."

The palmer has her time, her word, her smile, her pity; while the bard, who has been true to her so long, is left unnoticed in the crowd:

"I see that chance hath chosen me,

Thus secretly to live in pain;

And to another given the fee,

Of all my loss to have the gain."

Song, sonnet, ode, and roundel, bear the burthen

of this lofty and poetic strain.

3. The tone throughout is grave and pure:

"I may not sigh in sorrow deep
Nor wail the want of love,

Nor I may neither crouch nor creep
Where it doth not behove.

But I of force must needs forsake

My faith so fondly set;

And from henceforth must undertake

Such folly to forget."

History of two Queens. V.

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