But he restrained himself.

He wanted to have proofs first; he wanted to see them not merely accused, but doomed also; and for that he needed proofs of their guilt.
Henry Howard now approached the throne of the royal pair, and with beaming looks, with animated countenance, with a voice trembling with emotion, he read his love-song to the fair Geraldine.

A murmur of applause arose when he had read his first sonnet.

The king only looked gloomily, with fixed eyes; the queen alone remained uninterested and cold.
"She is a complete actress," thought Henry Howard, in the madness of his pain.

"Not a muscle of her face stirs; and yet this sonnet must remind her of the fairest and most sacred moment of our love." The queen remained unmoved and cold.