Henry Howard had incurred the penalty of the headsman's axe, and it was she that had betrayed him.
But her father had sworn to her that she should save her lover.
She durst not die then.

She must live to deliver Henry Howard.
There were burning, as it were, the fires of hell in her poor heart; but she was not at liberty to heed these pains.

She could not think of herself--only of him--of Henry Howard, whom she must deliver, whom she must save from an ignominious death.
For him she sent up her fervent prayers to God; for him her heart trembled with anxiety and agony, as the king now advanced to her, and, bending down, gazed into her eyes with a strange expression, at once scrutinizing and smiling.
"Lady Jane," said he then, as he presented her his hand, "arise from the ground and allow your king to express to you his thanks for your sublime and wonderful sacrifice! Verily, it is a fair lot to be a king; for then one has at least the power of punishing traitors, and of rewarding those that serve us.

I have to-day done the one, and I will not neglect to do the other also.

Stand up, then, Lady Jane; it does not become you to lie on your knees before me." "Oh, let me kneel, my king," said she, passionately; "let me beseech you for mercy, for pity! Have compassion, King Henry--compassion on the anxiety and agony which I endure.