"I know very well that it is dangerous to trust such secrets to paper.

I have only written him to come in his official robes, because I have an important secret to confess to him." "Oh, God be praised! We are not lost," sighed Seymour.
"But how, I do not understand you ?" asked she.

"You do not extend me your hand! You do not hasten to conduct me to the chapel!" "Tell me, I conjure you, tell me only this one thing: have you ever spoken to the archbishop of your--no--of our love?
Have you ever betrayed to him so much, as a syllable of that which stirs our hearts ?" She blushed deeply beneath the steady gaze which he fixed on her.
"Upbraid me, Seymour," whispered she.

"But my heart was weak and timorous; and as often as I tried to fulfil the holy duty, and confess everything honestly and frankly to the archbishop, I could not do it! The word died on my lips; and it was as though an invisible power paralyzed my tongue." "So, then, Cranmer knows nothing ?" "No, Seymour, he knows nothing as yet.

But now he shall learn all; now we will go before him and tell him that we love each other, and constrain him, by our prayers, to bless our union, and join our hands." "Impossible!" cried Seymour.