in the sight of
Melville, Bourgoin, and the others, whom they had brought thither, less
to be present at the interment of Queen Mary than to bear witness to the
magnificence of Queen Elizabeth. But, as one may suppose, the unhappy
prisoners were indifferent to this splendour, great and extraordinary as
it was.

On Friday, August 10th, all the chosen persons assembled at the bishop's
palace: they ranged themselves in the appointed order, and turned their
steps to the cathedral, which was close by. When they arrived there,
they took the places assigned them in the choir, and the choristers
immediately began to chant a funeral service in English and according to
Protestant rites. At the first words of this service, when he saw it was
not conducted by Catholic priests, Bourgoin left the cathedral, declaring
that he would not be present at such sacrilege, and he was followed by
all Mary's servants, men and women, except Melville and Barbe Mowbray,
who thought that whatever the tongue in which one prayed, that tongue was
heard by the Lord. This exit created great scandal; but the bishop
preached none the less.

The sermon ended, the herald king went to seek Bourgoin and his
companions, who were walking in the cloisters, and told them that the
almsgiving was about to begin, inviting them to take part in this
ceremony; but they replied that being Catholics they could not make
offerings at an altar of which they disapproved. So the herald king
returned, much put out at the harmony of the assembly being disturbed by
this dissent; but the alms-offering took place no less than the sermon.
Then, as a last attempt, he sent to them again, to tell them that the
service was quite over, and that accordingly they might return for the
royal ceremonies, which belonged only to the religion of the dead; and
this time they consented; but when they arrived, the staves were broken,
and the banners thrown into the grave through the opening that the
workmen had already closed.

Then, in the same order in which it had come, the procession returned to
the palace, where a splendid funeral repast had been prepared. By a
strange contradiction, Elizabeth, who, having punished the living woman
as a criminal, had just treated the dead woman as a queen, had also
wished that the honours of the funeral banquet should be for the
servants, so long forgotten by her. But, as one can imagine, these ill
accommodated themselves to that intention, did not