Deathbed Confession: Four Ghosts for a King

 His Grace King Henry VIII lay upon his deathbed, racked with fever and pain, sweating profusely and tossing fitfully upon his Great Bed of State.

Suddenly,  in front of his hot, fevered gaze, his first Queen, Catherine of Aragon, appeared, dressed as she had been on their wedding night.
“I was a maid on our wedding night, Henry. Surely you know a virgin when you’ve bedded one? Then again, maybe you don’t? For you believed that Night Crow Great Whore of yours to be one when you took her to your bed.”, the vicious specter of Catherine taunted.
“I needed a Prince to rule England!”, Henry roared into the empty air in the darkened room. “A Prince your womb never quickened with for me!”
Just as suddenly as she appeared, Catherine’s vision vanished. Startled, Henry sat bolt-upright in bed, looking for her. He sat for some time, watching, in case she reappeared. Eventually, however, weariness overcame him again, and he slipped into restless slumber once again…
As the clock struck midnight, however, a second Queen’s phantom appeared. Seductive and darkly beautiful, Queen Anne Boleyn appeared in a dressing gown of midnight velvet, her visage backlit by moonlight.
She smiled at Henry, but it was a smirk, one of hatred, hurt,  rage, and vengeance.
“I carried your son, Henry my Love…”, she purred in a tone that was velvety soft on the surface, but hard and brittle as a diamond, underneath.  “He drained out of me when you had me beheaded. All you had to do was love me, and believe that I loved you.”
“LEAVE ME!”, he roared at Anne’s ghost, and she did, in a quick puff of smoke!
Scarcely another hour passed, before Queen Jane Seymour’s apparition appeared before him. She was crying, but her tears were of blood! They flooded the floor as she wept, and Henry’s eyes grew wide, as blood covered the room!
“Anne’s blood is on my hands, Henry, and yours as well! Your vengeance and unbridled desire for a Prince cost Anne her life, and our son and me ours as well!”, Jane accused, then began to weep again.
Henry rubbed his eyes, as though he were trying to rub her image out of them.
At last, when he thought he could tolerate her weeping no longer, she faded into the darkness…
He was truly restless now, and it was a good while before sleep again welcomed him. Then, just as he slipped into a fitful rest, yet another Queen visited him: his doomed fifth Queen, Katherine Howard.  Sexy kitten/vixen Katherine said not a word, merely danced before him in a shimmering white silk gown, much as she had done in his private chambers before he bedded her each night. Then she turned and stretched out her hand to a ghostly Thomas Culpeper, and a livid Henry was forced to watch them engage in passionate lovemaking right in front of him!
Determined to stop them from continuing to torment him, Henry sat up and swung his legs over the bed, and began to get up slowly.  But when he rose, the strain was too much for him, and, as he grabbed his huge chest in agony,  and doubled over in a heap on the floor.  The King was found dead at dawn……