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How it was I do not know ; but, I seemed to see it all at once. I saw a ll: the river with its smiling green banks, down to Greenwich, whence came the royal bride, in all the pomp of heraldry and power. I saw her landed amidst crowds of citizens, of civil and military trains; I heard the joyous strains of music, the roar of guns, the peal of bells and the merry shouts that welcomed her. Then I saw the Lord Mayor escorting her, with many officials arrayed in golden robes and chains, and mantles scarlet as blood. • . . They brought her a beautiful white horse with gilded saddle and bridle set with pearls. She mounted it and went to meet the King, her amorous but passionate and heartless despot . . . to meet her hapless, dreary fate ! . . . I looked at her . . . and could no longer take my eyes from her. They were rivetted to that youthful form and fair face ! Truly it was a striking and beautiful face. Its charm lay not so much in the features or complexion as in its expression : mild, innocent and so pathetic. . . . Truth and sweetness were written in her large soft eyes, in her charming smile entirely devoid of pride or vanity. She had a strange, somewhat bewildered and enquiring look. Glancing about her, she seemed to be seeking for an answer to a secret thought, to strain her mental sight as if to read, in all this brightness and glory surrounding her, her future doom. . . . She did not see, and could read nothing. But I could : I saw and read it, and knew what was in store for her. The long black tresses, flowing down over the slender ermine-clad shoulders, appeared like so many serpents in my sig h t; the precious rubies that encircled her brow turned into large drops of blood. . . . The same with the gaudy, high-floating flags. The date, the very day and year, embroidered on them in gold and silver characters— “ May 29, 1533 ”— changed colour and meaning for me. I read : “ May 19, 1536.” I saw the large black characters everywhere, on earth and in the sky. They were written above the doomed fair girl’s head, over the walls and gates of the Tower, and even on the broad features of her betrothed, when the pair met to become man and wife. . . . And behold 1 When I saw them meet, all was changed in a moment. What of the dazzling procession, of the brilliant palace, where the satiated egoist, the cruel despot, was about to wed one of the many unfortunate women whom he claimed for his own ? All had disappeared ! The pile of desolate walls was now a fortress or a prison. A t once I knew that three years had elapsed from that bright, joyful day . . . . had passed and gone for e v e r! A ll was changed ! A ll seemed dark and mournful around. I saw her again, the once happy, beloved bride, the wife of a mighty king. O h ! how wan, how pale and withered she looked. But

13H.P. Blavatsky & M. Collins, editors - Lucifer Vol. III, No. 13 September, 1888  

Source : The International Association for the Preservation of Spiritualist and Occult Periodicals (IAPSOP, www.iapsop.com), digitized by Go...

13H.P. Blavatsky & M. Collins, editors - Lucifer Vol. III, No. 13 September, 1888  

Source : The International Association for the Preservation of Spiritualist and Occult Periodicals (IAPSOP, www.iapsop.com), digitized by Go...

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