CHAPTER IX. Whatsoever mine eyes desired I kept not from them; I withheld not my heart from any joy... Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought; and on all the labour that I had laboured to do; and behold all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun. KING SOLOMON. language of holy Scripture, she was about to reap the whirlwind." The all but ab 66 solute power of the tyrannical King had to find some colour of justice in executing its decrees. He could not put away Anne as he had put away Katharine; it was necessary to produce some charge against her; and this the Court slanderers very quickly furnished him with. The naturally easy manners of Anne, rendered still more so by her long residence in France, which had given her society an additional charm both to Henry and others, exposed her, as such manners often do, to harsh aspersions: but the lively demeanour that was pardonable in a Maid of Honour, was deemed unbecoming in a Queen; and 'Anne's familiarity with her former friends, and even with her dependants, now gave occasion to her enemies, and the mean flatterers of the King's humours, to hint suspicions of the propriety of her moral conduct. Anne always expected to find herself an object of admiration; she was so accustomed to this, that it was affirmed she had per mitted a low-born musician, named Smeaton, to express it to her. This man heard the rumours that were whispered in the Court before she did; and, full of anxiety for himself and his injured Queen, sought her presence, with the hope of warning her of her danger. But vanity was to be fatal to Anne Boleyn she attributed Smeaton's sadness : to the hopeless admiration he entertained for herself; and thus spoke to him in a manner which caused the loss of the opportunity the man had sought; for he was soon after arrested, loaded with irons, and thrown into the Tower. Anne, it is said, was not even then aware of the cause; and did not apprehend any danger: yet, probably, she had forebodings as to her fate, for she committed the charge of her infant Elizabeth's religious training to her chaplain, Parker, a divine who is well known among those of Queen Elizabeth's reign. On the celebration of May-day, so merry a day in the olden time of England, Queen Anne appeared once more at a scene, which Iwould have been more accordant with her taste and feelings in other days, as affording occasion for that display, in which she delighted. This was a tournay at Greenwich: the scene was a splendid and animated one; and seated by her royal husband, Anne might have forgotten her fears and forebodings. Her Brother, Lord Rochford, was the challenger, and Henry Norris, the King's great friend and one of the witnesses of her private marriage, was the defender. Norris, heated in the course, unfortunately rested beneath the Queen's balcony, who either by accident, or with the freedom that marked her actions and manners, let fall her handkerchief at his feet. It would seem to have been intentionally done; for Norris dared to wipe his face with it, and handed it back on the point of his lance. King Henry, who was only anxiously watching to seize the first excuse, which the unguarded conduct of his once loved Anne afforded, started from his seat and hastily left the court: six gentlemen most in his confidence followed, as if aware of the cause: Anne sunk overwhelmed with dismay; but immediately withdrew. Lord Rochford and Norris were both directly arrested; as was, soon afterwards, Francis Weston, another gentleman accused of taking liberties with the Queen. King Henry rode back to Whitehall in company with his prisoner Norris; and, as his once familiar friend, urged him to procure his mercy by confessing his guilt, and convicting the Queen. But Norris indignantly refused to do so, and declared he would maintain his innocence and hers; he was therefore sent off to the Tower. The arrest of Anne's only and beloved brother seemed still more cruel and unaccount |