that it cannot be sufficient to your generosity; for if you recompense so slight a conversation by gifts so great, what will you be able to do for those who are ready to consecrate their entire obedience to your desires? How great soever may be the bounties I have received, the joy I feel in being loved by a king whom I adore, and to whom I would with pleasure make a sacrifice of my heart, if fortune had rendered it worthy of being offered to him, will ever be infinitely greater.

The warrant of maid of honour to the Queen induces me to think that your majesty has some regard for me. Since it gives me the means of seeing you oftener, and of assuring you by my own lips (which I shall do on the first opportunity) that I am,

Your majesty's very obliged and very obedient servant, without any reserve,

ANNE BOLEYN.

Anne Boleyn's Last Letter to Henry VIII.

As a proper accompaniment to King Henry's love-letters, we put the last letter of Anne Boleyn to her royal husband, who had now ceased to be her lover, written from her prison in the Tower just before her execution. It is

the letter of a woman without hope, who knows well the man to whom she writes, and is not afraid to speak clearly and bravely. There has been some slight doubt expressed as to the authenticity of this letter as well as of the foregoing; but it seems plain to me no one but Anne could have written it, and her allusion to Jane Seymour as "that party, for whose sake I am now as I am, whose name I could some while since have pointed unto; your Grace being not ignorant of my suspicions therein," is in true womanly spirit, and shows that there had been accusations on her part before the king began those counter-accusations which led to the unhappy queen's death.

THE TOWER, May 6, 1536.

SIR, Your Grace's displeasure and my imprisonment are things so strange unto me, as what to write or what to excuse, I am altogether ignorant, whereas you send unto me (willing me to confess a truth, and so obtain your favour) by such an one whom you know to be mine ancient professed enemy. I no sooner received this message by him than I rightly conceived your meaning; and if, as you say, confessing a truth may procure my safety, I shall with all willingness and duty perform your command.

But let not your Grace ever imagine that your poor wife will ever be brought to acknowledge a fault where not so much as a thought thereof preceded. And, to speak truth, never prince had wife

more loyal in all duty and in all true affection than you have ever found in Anne Boleyn, with which name and place I could willingly have contented myself, if God and your Grace's pleasure had been so pleased. Neither did I, at any time, so far forget myself in my exaltation, or received queenship, but that I always looked for such an alteration as I now find; for the ground of my preferment being on no surer foundation than your Grace's fancy, the least alteration, I knew, was sufficient to draw that fancy to some other subject. You have chosen me from a low estate to be your Queen and companion, far above my desert and desire. If then you found me worthy of such honour, good your Grace, let not any light fancy, or bad counsel of mine enemies, withdraw your princely favour from me; neither let that stain, that unworthy stain of a disloyal heart towards your good Grace, ever cast so foul a blot on your most dutiful wife, and the infant princess, your daughter. Try me, good King, but let me. have a lawful trial, and let not my sworn enemies sit as my accusers and judges; yea, let me receive an open trial, for my truth shall fear no open shame; then shall you see, either mine innocency cleared, your suspicion and conscience satisfied, the ignominy and slander of the world stopped,

or my guilt openly declared. So that whatsoever God or you may determine of me, your Grace may be freed from an open censure, and mine offence being so lawfully proved, your Grace is at liberty, both before God and man, not only to execute worthy punishment on me as an unlawful wife, but to follow your affections already settled on that party, for whose sake I am now as I am, whose name I could some while since have pointed unto; your Grace being not ignorant of my suspicions therein.

But if you have already determined of me, and that not only my death, but an infamous slander, must bring you to the enjoying of your desired happiness, then I desire of God that he will pardon your great sin therein, and likewise mine enemies, the instruments thereof, and that he will not call you to a strict account for your unprincely and cruel usage of me, at his general judgment seat, where both you and myself must shortly appear, and in whose judgment I doubt not (whatsoever the world may think of me) mine innocence shall be openly known and sufficiently cleared. My last and only request shall be that myself may only bear the burden of your Grace's displeasure, and that it shall not touch the innocent souls of those poor gentlemen, who (as I under

stand) are likewise in strait imprisonment for my sake. If ever I have found favour in your sight, if ever the name of Anne Boleyn has been pleasant in your ears, then let me obtain this request; and I will so leave to trouble your Grace any further, with mine earnest prayers to the Trinity to have your Grace in his good keeping, and to direct you in all your actions. From my doleful prison in the Tower, this sixth of May.

Your most loyal and ever faithful wife,

ANNE BOLEYN.

Henry VIII. to Jane Seymour.

The following is the only other love-letter from Henry VIII. to any of his royal favourites, which is extant. This was written to Jane Seymour, Anne's successor to the dangerous position of queen, while Anne was in the Tower awaiting her death.

Jane Seymour died at the birth of her son the year following her marriage. The value of Henry's protestations of affection to any woman may be judged by this brief extract from old John Heywood's account of her death:

"News was sent to the king that her life was in great peril, nay, the issue was driven to so great an exigeance that either mother or child must necessarily perish; desiring the king to decide in so great an emergency. His answer was the mother should then die, for certain he was he could have more wives, but uncertain whether to have more children." On this the mother