afternoon by
signs she called for her council, and by putting her hand to her head
when the king of Scots was named to succeed her, they all knew he was
the man she desired should reign after her.
"About six at night she made signs for the archbishop and her chaplains
to come to her; at which time I went in with them and sat upon my knees
full of tears to see that heavy sight. Her majesty lay upon her back
with one hand in the bed and the other without. The bishop kneeled down
by her and examined her first of her faith; and she so punctually
answered all his several questions, by lifting up her eyes and holding
up her hand, as it was a comfort to all the beholders.... After he had
continued long in prayer, till the old man's knees were weary, he
blessed her; and meant to rise and leave her. The queen made a sign with
her hand. My sister Scrope, knowing her meaning, told the bishop the
queen desired he would pray still. He did so for a long half hour after,
and then thought to leave her. The second time she made sign to have him
continue in prayer. He did so for half an hour more, with earnest cries
to God for her soul's health, which he uttered with that fervency of
spirit, as the queen to all our sight much rejoiced thereat, and gave
testimony to us all of her christian and comfortable end. By this time
it grew late, and every one departed, all but her women that attended
her.... Between one and two o'clock of the Thursday morning, he that I
left in the cofferer's chamber brought me word that the queen was dead."
A Latin letter written the day after her death to Edmund Lambert,
whether by one of her physicians or not is uncertain, gives an account
of her sickness in no respect contradictory to Robert Cary's.
"It was after laboring for nearly three weeks under a morbid melancholy,
which brought on stupor not unmixed with some indications of a
disordered fancy, that the queen expired. During all this time she could
neither by reasoning, entreaties, or artifices be brought to make trial
of any medical aid, and with difficulty was persuaded to receive
sufficient nourishment to sustain nature; taking also very little sleep,
and that not in bed, but on cushions, where she would sit whole days
motionless and sleepless; retaining however the vigor of her intellect
to her last breath, though deprived for three days before her death of
the power of speech."
Another contemporary writes to his friend thus.... "No doubt you
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