[The following is in regards to the divorce of King Henry VIII of England.]
Henry evaded it for three weeks. Finally he sought out Catherine in her closet, with a speech prepared to break the news to her gently. Learned and pious men, he told her, had advised him that their marriage was defective, that they were, in fact, living together in sin. In all conscience he could not continue to be her husband. They must separate. He would be glad to have her select some place of retirement, away from court. Where would she like to go?
Catherine stared at him, all sorts of emotions fighting for utterance: disappointment that he could thus callously blacken her good name and wreck their daughter’s hopes, grief at the memory of a dead love, anger at an unprovoked, unjust attack, and perhaps not a little pure exasperation at the connubial blindness which could assume that she had not known what he was up to. For a moment her mouth worked dumbly, then she burst into uncontrollable sobbing.
Her tears unnerved Henry completely. He babbled. She must not cry. It was not that he had ceased to love her, it was only this doubt… this doubt… his conscience troubled him… He had to be sure… after all, nothing was settled… things might come out all right… there was no hurry… she could take her time… Meanwhile all this was secret… a great secret… say nothing to anyone… a question of his conscience… The storm of tears did not abate, and Henry rushed away from them, defeated.
Source:
Mattingly, Garrett. “Part III: The Divorce of Henry VIII (1527-1536); Chapter One, Section iii” Catherine of Aragon. New York: Quality Paperback , 1990. 250. Print.
Further Reading:
Kings and Queens are people, too.