He shall die on the scaffold and you--you shall live in disgrace." "Oh, horrible!" groaned Jane, as she buried her face in her hands.
Her father continued: "Silly, short-sighted child, who thought she could play with the sword, and did not see that she herself might feel the stroke of this double-edged blade! You wanted to be the servant of the Church, that you might thereby become mistress of the world.

You would acquire glory, but this glory must not singe your head with its fiery rays.

Silly child! he who plays with fire will be consumed.

But we penetrated your thoughts and the wish of which you yourself were unconscious.

We looked into the depths of your being, and when we found love there, we made use of love for our own purposes and your salvation.
What do you bewail, then, and why do you weep?
Have we not allowed you to love?
Have we not authorized you to give yourself entirely up to this love?
Do you not call yourself Earl Surrey's wife, though you cannot name to me the priest that married you?
Lady Jane, obey, and we envy you not the happiness of your love; dare to rebel against us, and disgrace and shame overtake you, and you shall stand before all the world disowned and scoffed at; you the strumpet, that--" "Stop, my father!" cried Jane, as she sprang vehemently from the floor.
"Desist from your terrible words if you do not wish me to die of shame.
Nay, I submit, I obey! You are right, I cannot draw back." "And why would you either?
Is it not a life pleasant and full of enjoyment?
Is it not rare good fortune to see our sins transfigured to virtue; to be able to account earthly enjoyment the service of Heaven?
And what do you bewail then?
That he does not love you?
Nay, he does love you; his vows of love still echo in your ears; your heart still trembles with the fruition of happiness.