But she felt herself gently held back.

Archbishop Cranmer stood near her, regarding her with a serious and beseeching look.
"Compose yourself, compose yourself," murmured he.

"You cannot save her; she is lost.

Think of yourself, and of the pure and holy religion whose protectress you are.

Preserve yourself for your Church and your companions in the faith!" "And must she die ?" asked Catharine, whose eyes filled with tears as she looked toward the poor young child, who was confronting the king with such a beautiful and innocent smile.
"Perhaps we may still save her, but this is not the moment for it.