Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction
"When she did at last believe it, there was no wild weeping or crying for
mercy; but she set her affairs in order, queenly, and yet sedately too.
She first thought of her soul, and desired that M. de Preau might come to
her and hear her confession; but they would not permit it. They offered
her Dr. Fletcher instead, 'a godly man,' as my lord of Kent called him.
'Je ne m'en doute pas,' she said, smiling. But it was hard not to have a
priest.
"Then she set her earthly affairs in order when she had examined her soul
and made confession to God without the Dean's assistance. We all supped
together when it was growing late; and I thought, Father Anthony--indeed
I did--of another Supper long ago. Then M. Gorion was sent for to arrange
some messages and gifts; and until two of the clock in the morning we
watched with her or served her as she wrote and gave orders. The court
outside was full of comings and goings. As I passed down the passage I
saw the torches of the visitors that were come to see the end; and once I
heard a hammering from the great hall. Then she went to her bed; and I
think few lay as quiet as she in the castle that night. I was with her
ladies when they waked her before dawn; and it was hard to see that sweet
face on the pillow open its eyes again to what was before her.
"Then when she was dressed I went in again, and we all went to the
oratory, where she received our Saviour from the golden pyx which the
Holy Father had sent her; for, you see, they would allow no priest to
come near her....
"Presently the gentlemen knocked. When we tried to follow we were
prevented; they wished her to die alone among her enemies; but at last
two of the ladies were allowed to go with her.
"I ran out another way, and sent a message to my Lord Shrewsbury, who
knew me at court. As I waited in the courtyard, the musicians there were
playing 'The Witches' Dirge,' as is done at the burnings--and all to mock
at my queen! At last a halberdier was sent to bring me in."
Mary Corbet was silent a moment or two and leaned back in her chair; and
the others dared not speak. The strange emotion of her voice and the
stillness of that sparkling figure in the porter's chair affected them
profoundly. Her face was now completely shaded by a fan.
"It was in the hall, where a great fire was burning on the hearth. The
stage stood at the upper end; all was black. The crowd of gentlemen
filled the hall and all were still and reverent except--except a devil
who laughed as my queen came in, all in black. She was smiling and brave,
and went up the steps and sat on her black throne and looked about her.
The--the _things_ were just in front of her.
"Then the warrant was read by Beale, and I saw the lords glance at her as
it ended; but there was nought but joyous hope in her face. She looked
now and again gently on the ivory crucifix in her hand, as she listened;
and her lips moved to--to--Him who was delivered to death for her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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