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Unformatted text preview: sake, be wise. Speak to me in patience." "Patience! Were you born knowing? Or is that a lie too? In the arms of a queen, was it not? And for you, she lost her head." "Silence, Emaleth," cried my father. "I am not afraid of you." "You are the only one then, Father. Brother, look at me, listen to what I say." "I don't know what you are saying, I don't understand this. My mother was a great queen. I never knew her name." I stuttered as I said this, for I had long ago guessed who she might have been, and this was stupid for me to pretend not to know, and this woman knew it. She was clever and she saw past my gentle Franciscan manner and the startled look of innocence on my face. In an ugly dim flash, I remembered my mother's loathing, the touch of my mouth on her nipple. I brought my hands up to my face. Why had I come back to learn these truths? Why had I not stayed in Italy? Oh, fool! What had I thought an ugly truth could do? "It was the Boleyn," said th...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10