n to him to carry this heart-rending news to Scotland. "Weep
not," said she, "but rather rejoice, my good Melvil. Carry this
news with thee, that I die firm in my religion, true to Scotland,
true to France. May God, who can alone judge the thoughts and
actions of men, forgive those who have thirsted for my blood.
Remember me to my son; tell him I have done nothing that may
prejudice his kingdom." She then earnestly entreated that her women
might be permitted to be with her at her death; but the Earl of
Kent refused it, saying that they might be guilty of something
scandalous and superstitious, even to dipping their handkerchiefs in
her blood. But Mary plighted her word they should not offend in any
wise: "Surely, surely you will not deny me this last little
request; my poor girls wish only to see me die." As she said this,
a few tears were observed to fall, for the first time; and, after
some consultation, she was permitted to have two ladies and four
gentlemen beside her. Followed by these, she entered the great
hall, and seated herself on the raised platform, prepared for a
scaffold, with the same easy grace and dignity with which she would
have occupied her throne. The death-warrant was then read; but those
who were near could see, by the sweet and absent expression of her
countenance, that her thoughts were afar off.

The Earl of Kent next solicited her to join with him and the
Protestant chaplain in their devotions. But she declined, and,
kneeling apart, repeated a part of the penitential Psalms, and
afterwards continued her prayers aloud in English. By this time, the
chaplain had concluded; there was a deep silence, so that every word
was heard. It was impossible for any one to behold her at this moment
without being deeply affected--on her knees, her hands clasped and
raised to heaven, an expression of adoration and divine serenity
lighting up her features, and upon her lips the words of forgiveness
to her persecutors. Having finished, she cheerfully suffered herself
to be undressed by her women, gently admonishing them not to distress
her by their lamentations; putting her finger on her lips, and bidding
them remember that she had promised for them. On seeing the
executioner approach to offer his assistance, she smiled, and
playfully said, "that she had neither been used to such grooms of the
chamber, nor to undress before so many people." When all was ready,
she kissed her women, and, giving them her last bles