Have wished me there;-the thought that mine was free XIV.-HENRY VIII. AND ANNE BOLEYN. SCENE IN THE TOWER-ANNE BOLEYN and a CONSTABLE of the Tower. Anne Boleyn. Is your liege ill, sir, that you look so anxious? Constable of the Tower. Madam! Anne. I would not ask what you may wish To keep a secret from me; but indeed This right, I think, is left me; I would know If my poor husband is quite well to-day. Constable. Pardon me, gracious lady! what can prompt To this inquiry? Anne. I have now my secret. Constable. I must report all questions, sayings, doings, Movements, and looks of yours, His Highness may Be ruffled at this eagerness to ask It would incense him: he made only one, And Heaven alone that heard him must remind him He scarcely was what kings and husbands should be. A little wine has great effect upon Warm hearts (and Henry's heart was very warm) And upon strong resentments: I do fear He has those too. But all his friends must love him. He may have passed (poor Henry !) a bad night, Constable. Lady! I grieve to tell you, worse than that; Far worse! Anne. Oh, mercy, then! the child! the child! Why not have told me of all this before? What boots it to have been a guiltless wife, When I, who should have thought the first about it, Too wildly in my rapture thrown around her, Departure from this world would never be Would mingle with them scarcely with fresh sweetness. Anne. Constable. Arise, sir constable ! My queen! And you weep! Heaven's joys lie close before you. Anne. Few days, I know, are left me; they will melt All into one, all pure, all peaceable: No starts from slumber into bitter tears; No struggles with sick hopes and wild desires; To crush the child that sits upon its bough And looks abroad, too tender for suspicion, Thou knowest, O my God, thou surely knowest (Constable, on his knees presents the Writ of Execution.) They once had a young queen to pity them. Smooth it, I say again: frame some kind words, Constable. Lady! I wish this scroll could suffocate My voice. One order I must disobey, To place it in your hand and mark you read it. I lay it at your feet, craving your pardon Anne. Rise up; give it me ; I know it ere I read it, but I read it Because it is the king's, whom I have sworn Constable (aside). Her mind's distraught! Anne. The worst hath long been over; Henry loves courage; he will love my child For this; although I want more than I have; And yet how merciful at last is Heaven, To give me but thus much for her sweet sake! SECTION VI.-COMIC. L-EVIDENCE OF SAM. WELLER IN THE TRIAL OF (DICKENS.) Judge. CALL Samuel Weller. What's your name, sir? Samuel. Sam Weller, my lord. "? Judge. Do you spell it with a "v" or with a "w” Sam. That depends upon the taste and fancy of the speller, my lord; I never had occasion to spell it more than once or twice in my life, but I spells it with a "v." Voice. Quite right too, Samivel, quite right; put it down a "we," my lord, put it down a "we." Judge. Who is that that dares to address the court? Usher. Usher. Yes, my lord. Judge. Bring that person here instantly? Usher. Yes, my lord. Judge to Sam. Do you know who that was, sir? Sam. I rayther suspect it wur my father, my lord. Judge. Do you see him here now? Sam. No, I don't, my lord, (looking straight up into the gas). Judge. If you could have pointed him out, I would have committed him instantly. Counsellor Buzfuz. Now, Mr. Weller. Sam. Now, sir, (bowing). Buz. I believe you are in the service of Mr. Pickwick, the defendant in this case. Speak up, if you please, Mr. Weller. Sam. I mean to speak up, sir. I am in the service of that ere gen'l'man, and a wery good service it is. Buz. Little to do, and plenty to get, I suppose. |