Sat here once again on my own at Windsor, it is maddening to me that Mary has already been mistress to two Kings, wife, mother and widow and I who have kept my virtue intact have nothing. In fact I have less than nothing. No security, no husband, no children to comfort me.
The whole of Christendom thinks me the King’s mistress in every way, which is a thought I heartily detest. None of the consolations of a mistress are mine, but all of the stains on my character are. I know my detractors are whispering in corners. ‘Of course after 5 years that whore Anne Boleyn has given her virginity to the King’ or ‘I heard rumour she has already borne the King several bastards in secret.’ How can life be so cruel when I have acted to protect my maidenhead and constantly behaved with moral propriety?