I love you as my father loved Anne Boleyn, whom, in the hatred of his love and the cruel wrath of his jealousy, he made to mount the scaffold, because he had been told that she was untrue to him.
Ah, had I the power, I would do as my father did; I would murder you, if you should dare ever to cease to love me.

And now, Thomas Seymour, now say whether you have the courage to desire to leave me ?" She looked bewitching in the naming might of her passion; she was so young, so ardent; and Thomas Seymour was so ambitious! In his eyes Elizabeth was not merely the beautiful, charming maiden, who loved him: she was more than that: she was the daughter of Henry the Eighth, the Princess of England, perchance some day the heiress of the throne.

It is true, her father had disinherited her, and by act of Parliament declared her unworthy of succeeding to the throne.[Footnote: Burnet, vol.i, p.

138] But Henry's vacillating mind might change, and the disowned princess might one day become queen.
The earl thought of this as he gazed on Elizabeth--as he saw her before him, so charming, so young, and so glowing with passion.

He thought of it as he now clasped her in his arms, and pressed on her lips a burning kiss.
"No, I will not go," whispered he.