Love in the sense we tend to think of it would have been a bit of an alien concept back then. Not impossible, but so far down the list of requirements in a ‘partner’ that Henry’s love for Anne or her love for him most probably would be something we would not recognise. The ‘passion’ at that time was all of the courtly type, the physical attraction, the chase, the coming together briefly only to part, the making jealous by ‘flirting’ with another, the riddles and masques. Like us of course the ultimate for the man would be a good bedding and for a fair few of the women the same – probably with a jewel or two chucked in, a length of brocade or velvet, a sugared plum…
Henry was attracted to Anne, wanted to follow the usual well practised routine and made his desire clear, Anne on the other hand was not up for it yet because she was still unmarried. She did a lot of the flirting with others, she let herself be caught briefly then flitted away again, in the end she basically fascinated and frustrated him. His great love for her was kept alight like a well managed fire when you are in the middle of nowhere and have ran out of matches. At the first glimmer of marriage being on offer Anne softened. Her passion for him became the chance of a good marriage to the credit of her family and the comfort of herself. The ‘dying’ of the love would have been a boring familiarity, the let down of no boychild, the female temper sparking the male superiority, a touch of the embarrassment of knowing none of his mates liked his woman and other mundane things. For Anne she was probably well bored by him anyway but had made her bed so would do all she could to keep her position, not for the glory but for security, for her daughter, her family, her very life. I think if any of us had been in Anne’s position we would have been extremely obediant and loving wives, bonnie at board and bed as it were. In a way Anne began to truly ‘love’ Henry when he began to think she was coming up to her best by date.
Their story has a much more practical basis than Jennifer and Oliver (Love Story) but that is not to make it anything less either. I think their ‘passion’ was unusual amongst their contemporaries and not only for its ending.

Henry’s one and only love was himself. He may have been in love with the idea of love, but I do not believe he was capable of loving another person. He was too sociopathic and egotistical for such an emotion.

Yupp, that’s it, the love of Henry’s life was himself, and he WAS in love with the idea of being in love. He lived in Henry la la land.

LOL the image of Henry looking at himself in the mirror with googley eyes sighing came to mind.

Anyanka said

2 words…beer googles…makes the most unattractive person shaggable!

Haha! Soo true.