"Not so," replied the Queen; "to-day, good Melville, thou seest the end of Mary Stewart’s miseries, that should rejoice thee. Thou knowest that this world is but vanity and misery. Be the bearer of this news, that I die a Catholic, firm in my religion, a faithful Scotchwoman and a true Frenchwoman. God forgive those who have sought my death." She advanced unmoved through the hall in which the scaffold stood, carrying in her uplifted hand a large ivory crucifix. After encountering much opposition, she succeeded in obtaining permission for her two women, Jane Kennedy and Elizabeth Curle, to assist her until she should be disrobed for the execution. Having mounted the scaffold, she seated herself on a low stool covered with black, while the warrant of execution was being read. When it was finished, she signed herself with the sign of the Cross and (as an eye witness says), "She looked upon the assembly with a joyous countenance, her beauty more apparent than ever, a bright colour in her face." Mr. Fletcher, Dean of Peterborough, then approached the scaffold railing and began to address her. But she paid no heed to him, except to inform him that he need not trouble himself further, for she was settled in her religion. On the contrary, as if indifferent to what was being said and done around her, she glided from the stool on which she sat, and kneeling down prayed aloud for the afflicted Church of Christ, for her son, for Queen Elizabeth, "that she might prosper and serve God aright," for her enemies who had long sought her blood; finally, kissing the crucifix, which she held in her hand, she begged that Jesus, whose arms were there extended on the cross, would receive her into the arms of his mercy. Her prayer ended, the executioners began to disrobe her. At this point her women, no longer able to control their feelings, broke into lamentations, but she embracing them, prayed them not to cry, or she would be obliged to send them away. Turning to where her men-servants stood, a short distance from the scaffold, she crossed them with her hands and bade them farewell. All being now ready, she embraced her women, saying, "Adieu for the last time,--Adieu, au revoir," and then requested them to withdraw from the scaffold. Seated on the black stool, her eyes bandaged, and the crucifix raised in her hands, she prays aloud, "My God, I have hoped in thee, I give back my soul into Thy hands." The executioners lead her to the block; Lord Shrewsbury lifts up his wand; a deep silence falls upon the hall as the axe trembles in the air, and is broken only by the last words of Mary Stewart as she awaits the deadly blow,--"Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit." "The neck is bared--the blow is struck--the soul is passed away, The bright, the beautiful, is now--a bleeding piece of clay."