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The Queen was silent and she continued—
"I was young, and not unlovely. The Prince proffered me his heart—his hand—and I believed his vows. He ruined me, ere you had seen him. Time passed, and he was wedded.—I awhile withstood his suit, nor yielded to his wishes; but a mother's weakness and a mother's fears subdued me;—to save my children, I became a wretch! Humbly I bend before you; I ask no life to revel on in sin; nor dare I hope, even while I implore forgiveness.—But think ye, lady 'tis a bitter thing ⟨to⟩ rush we know not, dream not whither;—not for mine, but for my soul's sake, spare me! and I swear, I in a closter's walls will veil my face, far from the sight of him who has undone me."
The beauty, the meekness of Rosamond, won upon the heart of the Queen—the weapon dropped from her hand.
Rosamond made a solemn vow, never to see Henry more, but to enter the Nunnery of Godstow; and the Queen quitted her.
She died in the year 1191, aged 57.
THE END.
