Anne Bushby, The New Monthly Magazine (1852)
“ Dyveke. What shall I do? unhappy that I am! I know nothing of my mother's designs. How shall I act? Monk. I have already told you. While the king loves you, so long will your mother preserve her influence over him. To deprive her of that influence, you must fly—you or she must be the victim. Dyveke. Oh, let me die for her, and for my Christian’s peace! then all my misery will be ended. Good monk, I am ready; what do you require of me? Monk. Lady, you misunderstand my words. Why speak of death? You must only go hence, far from the king and his dominions—perhaps to a cloister. ”
