Defiled is my name full sore. Through cruel spite and false report; That I may say for evermore, Farewell, my joy! adien! comfort. For wrongfully ye judge me, Cnto my frame a mortal wound, Say what ye list, it will not be, Ye seek for that cannot be found. Oh! death, rock me on sleep, Bring me on quiet rest; Let pass my very guiltless ghost, Let the sound of my death tell- There is no remedy, My pains who can express, Alas! they are so strong; My dolour will not suffer strengt Let the sound of my death tellFor I must die There is no remedy, For now I die. Alone, in prison strong, [ wail my destiny; Worth, worth, this cruel hap that I Should taste this misery. Toll out the passing bell, Ring out the doleful knell, Let the sound of my death tell- Farewell! my pleasures past, I feel my torments so increase, JANE SEYMOUR, Parentage-Birth-Education-Maid of honour to Anne Boleyn-Courted clandestinely by Henry the Eighth-Execution of Anne Boleyn-Marriage of Henry and Jane-Progress to London-Jane is introduced to court as Queen-Her pretended royal descent-Hypocrisy of the King encouraged by parliament--The crown settled on Jane's descent-Jane's friendship for the Princess Mary-Her coronation contemplated-Her quiet, passive conduct-She takes to her chamberHer great sufferings-Henry's desire to save the child at the expense of her lifeShe gives birth to Edward the Sixth-Christening-Jane's illness-Death-Lying in state-Burial-Henry the Eighth's mourning-The Bishop of Durham's letter of condolence-Henry the Eighth buried by the side of Jane-Monument begun but never finished. ANE SEYMOUR, the third consort of Henry the Eighth, was the eldest daughter of Sir John Seymour, of Wolf Hall, Wilts, and Margaret, daughter of Sir John Wentworth, of Nettlestead in Suffolk. The Seymours, a Norman family, came to England with William the Conqueror, and increased their wealth and influence by alliances with rich heiresses of noble blood. For several centuries they only took rank as second-rate gentry, and although some of the name served as high sheriffs for Wilts and others were knighted in the Frenco wars, in no instance had a Seymour obtained historical celebrity, or been returned as Knight of the Shire. Jane was born about the year 1504. Her career up to the period when she won Henry's heart, is involved in obscurity. A full-length portrait of her by Holbein, in the royal collection at Versailles, entitled maid of honour to Mary of England, Queen to Louis the Twelfth, and placed by the side of that of Anne Boleyn, which bears the like designation. has given rise to the conjecture that she finished her education at the court of France, in the service of Queen Mary Tudor, and subsequently of Queen Claude, and renders it at least probable that she and Anne Boleyn proceeded together to France, lived there under the same roof, and returned to England at the same time. Whether she ever entered the service of Katherine of Arragon, is problematical. Nor is it known when, or by whom she was placed as maid of honour to Anne l'oleyn. Wyatt says she was introduced to court for the express purpose of stealing the King's affections from his once idolized Queen, Anne; and many circumstances from her company; and unfortunately then have pretended to her good graces, Suffolk and Norfolk, both Henry's fa-if not her friendship. Henry's dignity vourites, were her great foes. That her was offended with these popular manners; levity and indiscretion acccicrated, per- and though the lover had been entirely haps caused her ruin. appears probable. blind, the husband whose love (such as So early as February, 1535, doubts, it could be) was already transferred to suspicions, and strange thoughts suggest-another object, possessed but too quick ed themselves, or had been suggested to the mind of Henry. To what particu. lars they related is unknown, but Anne certainly secretly implored, through the French ambassador, the aid of her old friend Francis the First, and when that resource failed her, pronounced herself | a distracted and ruined woman. The reconciliation which followed proved but a hollow one, and at length Henry, eager to rid himself of the woman he no longer loved, encouraged the authors and retailers of court scandal to circulate reports injurious to her reputation, and collecting these reports laid them before a secret committee, which he caused to be appointed on the twenty-fifth of April, to enquire into the charges against the Queen. This committee consisted of the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the Lord Chancellor, her own father, and several earls and judges, amongst whom was the Earl of Northumberland, the juvenile lover of Anne Boleyn; her father it is believed, although summoned to attend, absented himself. That the King had preconcerted his plan, and already decided the fate of his consort, is evident, by his having in April, and even before she was arrested, convoked the parliament which was to exonerate him from his now detested union, and abrogate the late act of succession in favour of Anne and her posterity. Had Henry's jealousy been derived from love, though it might on a sudden have proceeded to violent extremities, it would have been subject to many removes and contrarieties, and might at last have tended only to augment the affection on which it was founded; but it was a more stern jealousy, fostered entirely by pride. Anne being more vain than haughty, was pleased to see the influence of her beauty on all around her, and she indulged herself in an easy familiarity with persons who were formerly her equals, and who might discernment and penetration. Of the It was cited by seeing Norris wipe his face with a handkerchief the Queen had accidentally dropped from her balcony; but, however this may be, Anne immediately retired in alarm, the sports terminated, and Norris, Rochford, and Weston, were taken into custody. Henry, without seeing the Queen, rode back to Whitehall with only six persons in his train, one of whom was his prisoner Norris, an acknowledged favourite, and the only person whom he allowed to follow him in his bed-chamber. On the way, Henry rode with Norris apart, and earnestly solicited him to deserve pardon by the confession of his guilt. He refused, stoutly maintaining the innocence of himself and of the Queen, and on reaching Westminster, was conveyed to the Tower. For some hours after the arrest of Weston and Norris, the Queen remained in ignorance of their common calamity. When she sat down to dinner, her ladies were unusually silent and serious, for none of them chose to be the harbinger of misfortune. This excited her suspicions, which were confirmed immediately after the surnap was removed, by the arrival of the Duke of Norfolk, with other lords of the council, accompanied by Kingston, the governor of the Tower. Terror-struck at the sight of Kingston, she started up, and with faltering accents asked the reason of their coming. "It is His Majesty's pleasure," replied her uncle, that you should instantly depart to the Tower." "If it be His Majesty's pleasure," answered Anne, regaining her self-possession, "I am ready to obey;" and without, waiting to change her dress, she went with them to the barge. Immediately she was seated, Norfolk informed her that she was charged with infidelity to the King's bed, and that her paramours had already confessed their guilt. She protested her innocence, and vehemently demanded to see the King, that she might offer her personal vindication to him. To all her asseverations of innocence, Norfolk replied by shaking his head, with an expression of increlulous contempt; the other peers folowed his unmanly example; and Sir Thomas Audley alone, was kind and compassionate. Before quitting the barge, she fell on her knees, and in solemn prayer, attested her innocence before God. Then again. besought the | Duke to take her to the King. But her unfeeling kinsman left her to the not very tender care of Kingston, without even vouchsafing an answer to her entreaty. On ascending those stairs she had lately passed in triumph, when the King himself stood ready to receive her with all the ardour of inpassioned love, the woful Queen asked Kingston, whether he meant to lodge her in a dungeon? “No, Madam," said he, "you go to the apartments you occupied at your coronation." She immediately felt the gulf into which she was precipitated, and giving herself up for lost, burst into tears, and exclaimed It is too good for me." Then kneeling down, she continued, "Jesus, have mercy on me!" and went off in a violent fit of hysterical laughter. Shortly after she had recovered, she inquired of Kingston, when he had seen her father, then cagerly exclaimed. "Oh, where is my sweet brother?" Not willing to confess that he was already a prisoner in the same fortress, the lieutenant evaded the question. “I hear," she resumed, "I shall be accused by three men, yet though you should open my body," and she emphatically threw open her robe-" I should say but nay, nay, for 1 am as clear from the company of men, as for sin, as I am clear from you." Soon afterwards she exclaimed with anguish, "Oh Norris! hast thou accused me? Thou art in the Tower, and thou and I shall die together. And thou, Mark Smeaton, thou art here too!" On reflecting on the blow her fall would be to her step-mother the proud Countess of Wiltshire, she burst forth, "Oh, my mother, thou wilt die with sorrow!" Then interrupting herself, she bitterly bewailed the illness of Lady Worcester, whom she had left at the palace, overwhelmed with grief at her fall, and turning to the lieutenant, she clasped her hands, and said, "Alas, Mr. Kingston. I shall die without justice!" "Madam," replied the weary gaoler, "if you were the poor |